Succumb
by Teenwitch
Summary: We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face. HouseCameron.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Succumb (1?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face. House/Cameron

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_**Princeton, New Jersey 2008**_

Time had made little impact on the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. There were minute dents in its otherwise sturdy, unchangeable armour; staff came and went, facilities were tended to and charitable donations were granted.

As head of the Oncology Department, Wilson was in a prime position to witness these changes; a casual observer to their effects. For him, the years made little difference. His world was narrow in its focus and there were two things in particular that he could always count on being in it.

Cancer patients, and Gregory House.

The Diagnostics Department head was still as acerbic and bitter as he had always been. However, his team of loyal underlings had undergone minor changes. Chase and Foreman, reluctant as they were, had formed a sort of intangible allegiance with their gruff leader. Cameron, on the other had, had drifted from their ranks, and three and a half years had passed since that day.

Wilson still wasn't quite sure what it had been-- the work, or House, that had finally broken her. Whatever the case, her absence had caused a subtle shift in House's behaviour, and the brief hope the hospital staff had cherished for his rehabilitation had been snuffed the moment Cameron left its doors.

Wilson had never risked giving voice to his disappointment over this of course. House wasn't as unreadable as he liked to think he was, and if one thing was perfectly clear to the oncologist, it was that he did not want to talk about Allison Cameron.

After their fellowships concluded the two male doctors and Cameron's replacement formed the more permanent basis of the Diagnostic Department. Despite its known financial drain on the hospital, their recovery rate reflected highly on the effectiveness of their team, and Cuddy made the unit more official.

For some reason his thoughts dwelled on the past this particular day. Perhaps it was that House seemed to have withdrawn into himself more than ever, the last few months, and it was starting to have a lasting effect on the productivity of his team. Or perhaps it was Wilson's own life that gave him pause; his shaky but surprisingly resilient marriage to Julie, and her insistent need for children, one that he could not offer her. They had tried, numerous times, but with little result. It was almost as if his own virulent sperm was acting against him; listening to his inner desires and resisting such a permanent tie to a woman he did not love.

It was with these rather grim, philosophical thoughts in mind that Wilson rounded the corridor on his way to the clinic, shuffling through some clipboard notes on his latest patient. Cuddy wanted a full update, due to the patient's influence with the hospital, and he was loyally delivering her request. House would probably mock him for how easily he obeyed Cuddy's whims, but he was just smart enough not to cross her. She could be a fairly formidable force if left ignored.

He paused on his way, righting the wad of papers in his hands, and nearly collided with a young woman coming in the opposite direction.

Ever the gentleman, he lifted his head with a sincere apology on his lips. He stopped short. The pretty brunette smiled coyly back at him and he blinked in surprise.

"Allison."

If nothing had shocked him more, it was this. Allison Cameron as he had last seen her-- at home in her natural surroundings, and yet undeniably removed from them as well. He frowned, subtly taking in her appearance. Her long brown hair fell in loose curls around her soft features, and she was dressed casually, almost unnatural looking without her crisp white lab coat. It was this that finally convinced him she was not a hallucination from the past.

"Hi, Dr. Wilson."

He blinked at her, feeling stupid in his reaction. She looked perfectly serene, and unaffected by the bustling activity of the hospital around her. Three years had somehow managed to bring a newfound maturity to her once noticeable naiveté. Even without House, she had hardened to the world.

"I… I can't believe you're here", he said haltingly, quickly correcting himself. "I mean, it's so nice to see you. What are you doing back at the hospital?"

Cameron looked mildly amused by his surprise, smiling lightly. "Dr. Cuddy called me in to consult with the Immunology Department. They have an unusual case."

"Cuddy… called you?" he repeated, taken aback.

Cameron nodded, slanting an eyebrow. "Is that such a surprise? She probably heard on the grapevine that I was looking for work again."

"Right." He hesitated. "Well, have you—?"

A nurse appeared at Cameron's side, clasping a little girl by the hand. She smiled at Cameron sweetly, and for once, Wilson felt completely out of his element. "Your daughter came looking for you, Dr. Cameron. I think she got tired of all the fuss the other nurses were making".

Cameron smiled at her in return, taking the outstretched hand of the diminutive girl and pulling her easily into her arms.

Wilson blinked. He took in the startling similarities between them, as if the fact that the little girl was the splitting image of the beautiful young doctor was not already blatant for all to see. He was utterly dumbstruck at the sight. All he could think was, '_House is _not_ going to believe this'_.

"You have a… daughter?"

When he had turned into a stammering fool, he didn't know. Cameron merely nodded, straightening with both arms securely around the girl. "This is Brooklyn. Brooklyn, say hello to Wilson".

Brooklyn blinked at Wilson quietly, but didn't say anything. He felt an involuntary smile tug at his lips. "She's beautiful".

"Thank you", Cameron said softly and he glimpsed a flash of relief behind her blue eyes, as if she somehow sought his approval. He wondered, though, if it was really his approval she sought. He had always felt a sort of kinship with Cameron, considering they were both House's strongest, and perhaps only, supporters. He had often worried if House's suspicions about her need to fix things had been valid, but he could never ignore the positive influence she had had on him while she had been there.

"You, uh, you never told us you were married", he managed. He knew Foreman had kept up a loyal correspondence with her since her departure, and that Chase sent her the odd email, and received one in response. He himself emailed her on an infrequent basis. They had a casual friendship, but in reality it was his excuse to update her on House. She didn't protest or call him on it, though they both knew exactly what he was doing. He got the feeling she needed the weak connection to her old life. To House. And it was the only way he could console himself for the role he might have played in their shaky, doomed relationship.

She frowned slightly, a brief expression that flitted across her face and was gone just as instantly. "I'm not. It… it didn't last long".

He decided to spare her from further inquiry, and cleared his throat. "I suppose you haven't seen him yet".

Slowly, she shook her head and glanced away, confidence shaken at the mere mention of her former boss. So some things still hadn't changed. "No, I, um, I wasn't sure if I should".

"I think he would be happy to see you".

Cameron blinked, then laughed at him. "I think you're forgetting that we're talking about House here".

He wished she could understand House the way he did. He had thought she might be close once, but now that was a distant, wistful memory. "Well he might be… slightly less gruff than before. He's in his office".

"He's not working in the clinic anymore?"

He blinked, resisting a smile when he realised her reason for wandering around this particular wing of the hospital. "You do remember how many hours he has to make up, don't you? I think he tricked Cuddy into letting him off early for the day. That, or he just slipped past when she wasn't looking".

Cameron nodded, with a brief, knowing smile. She turned towards the elevators, Brooklyn weighed heavily in her arms, and Wilson called out after her.

"Good luck", he said sincerely.

She offered him a fleeting smile in response and he watched her go, wondering how important his meeting with Cuddy really was today. If there was one thing he wanted to see, it was House's expression when he saw her. Nothing was going to top that.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Succumb (2?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face. House/Cameron

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The immediately identifiable surroundings of her workspace hadn't changed a lot, and she revelled in their familiarity. She shifted Brooklyn's weight against her hip as she considered the glass wall that led to the briefing room, quickly pushing through the door and enjoying the familiar scuffing noise it made against the carpet.

It was empty, the whiteboard still standing formidably over the rest of the room, coffee mugs gathered messily by the sink. She guessed in an instant that her replacement was a male, and that his cleaning habits weren't much better that the remnant of the team.

The shades surrounding House's office were drawn, and she wondered if he was suffering particularly bad leg cramps, or if he merely wanted his space today. It sent an unmistakable message to potential intruders either way: Disturb, and suffer the inevitable snark.

Not that that was anything new. She paused, but the tinny voices of the television were markedly absent. Before she could lose her nerve, she squared her shoulders and decided that he really must be inside. She carefully pushed through the door.

Light from outside filtered into the room, and she spotted House's familiar figure, slouched in his desk chair, twirling his cane absently over the carpet. His face was turned to the wall, as if considering something deeply, and she wondered if he was contemplating his latest case.

She placed Brooklyn carefully on the floor, watching him with bated breath. She was unsure whether or not he had detected her quiet entrance.

"If you're going to hover in the doorway, I hope there's a good reason".

She drew in a sharp breath, realising that he hadn't yet turned his head. "Actually, there is".

She could see the subtle stiffness in his shoulders as he froze for a brief moment, and he slowly swivelled in his chair, allowing his gaze to connect with her own. He looked exactly the same as when she had left him. Scruffy and haggard, with an earnestness he tried so very hard to hide. The only thing missing was the spark of mischief behind his bright blue eyes. The bitterness was still there, but it had almost completely overtaken everything else. She swallowed, forcing herself to remain unaffected by the change, perhaps something only she, as an outsider, was able to see.

"Hello House".

"Cameron", he said slowly, very deliberately, as if testing out the word.

He frowned, suddenly noticing the flicker of movement at her feet. Brooklyn wandered into the room, moving with tentative caution; examining it with the curiosity and innocence only a child could muster.

He recovered from his shock in typical form, clearing his throat swiftly. "I see you're procreating. I guess that's gives the pretty people a one-up on humanity."

There was a brief, fleeting look of regret that passed over his eyes, but it was quickly gone again; so quickly she was sure she had imagined it.

She sighed; unsurprised his first words to her could be so nonchalant. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

"So," he said, whirling around in his seat, returning his attention to the outside world. A world he resented, yet contributed to everyday; saving the lives of anonymous strangers. "Feeling nostalgic? Thought you'd bring the kid for a round trip down memory lane?"

"I'm consulting with the Immunology department."

"Ah. Thought you'd swing by, huh? Foreman and Chase aren't here."

"I didn't come to see them."

His profile managed a cursory frown. "Huh. And Cuddy thinks I'm not likable enough for visitors."

She was frustrated with his evasiveness, but that was also nothing new. It was just that she had lost practice dealing with it. The feelings it evoked were almost painfully familiar. "I heard you employed Foreman and Chase full time."

Work. It was always their safety net. Well, it was always hers, anyway.

"They're like termites. Hardy. Impossible to get rid of."

She smiled vaguely, striding slowly around his desk. She stopped with her back to the window, and House was forced to look directly at her. His expression gave nothing away. "You look good," he noted absently, rolling the cane around in his fingers. "I guess stretchmarks and fatness are curses some young mothers don't have to deal with."

She decided to accept the veiled compliment in his words. "Thank you."

He glanced down, lifting an eyebrow as he continued to observe her. "No wedding ring," he added. "Either someone was very naughty, or someone did a Lola and ran like hell."

Cameron was unbothered by his analysis. "It was a mistake. He doesn't know about it."

"And you decided to go ahead and keep her anyway?" House prompted. "Noble. Or very martyr-like of you."

Cameron sighed. "We had this conversation once before," she reminded him. "I don't believe in abortion."

"No," he agreed quietly, letting her know he remembered. And what had followed. Their first, and more successful date. Non-date. Whatever they decided to classify it as. "You don't believe in God, but you believe in life at conception."

"I still do."

He chuckled humourlessly, straightening in his chair.

"How are you, House?"

She folded her arms, but she continued to stare at him earnestly. House met her gaze, looking unbothered by their shared intensity. Something the years had failed to wane.

"I'm starting to think I had one too many Vicodin with that scotch Cuddy forgot to confiscate."

Cameron smiled faintly. "You think I'm not real?"

"I kind of wish you weren't."

He rose to his feet, immediately towering over her, even with half his weight resting on his cane. She didn't flinch, gazing up at him slowly. "Why?"

He didn't answer, allowing his gaze to wander over her daughter, as if finally acknowledging her presence in the room. Brooklyn gingerly fingered a paperweight on one of his lower shelves, twisting her tiny features in a frown. House stared at her with a contemplative sort of fascination, a doctor's clinical view. "She looks like you."

"Yeah. I know."

"I hope the guy wasn't ugly. It might start to show when she gets older."

Cameron rolled her eyes. She remained silent, watching him watch the little girl, wondering what he was possibly thinking. The adjoining door slid open, disrupting the strange, charged atmosphere of the room.

Foreman strode in, with Chase close at his heels. Their white coats flapped almost comically behind them, and Foreman spoke quickly, as if expecting House to be particularly moody. "The results from the CT scan came back negative. Hudson is doing an MRI now—"

He cut himself off, finally glancing up from the sheet in his hand. He glimpsed Cameron and then Brooklyn in a fraction of a second, and his mouth fell open in mute shock. "Cameron!"

The interruption seemed to alert House to the reality of the situation. If he had doubted his sanity, he sure didn't now. He rolled his eyes, immediately standing back as Foreman moved forward to envelope Cameron in a warm hug. "Oh goody. And the ticker tape comes out."

Chase also moved to hug her, glancing down at Brooklyn over her shoulder with barely contained surprise.

"Cameron… what are you doing here?"

She launched into an explanation of her presence for the third time, completely mindful of their wandering stares. The two of them seemed uncertain what to react to first. Cameron; her unexpected but unmistakable offspring; or the fact that House looked marginally more animated than he had in months.

At last she sighed, folding her arms over her chest. She had been expecting the shock, but somehow she had blotted their particular reactions out of her mind. They had been absent from her life for a long time now. She hadn't thought it would matter to her.

"Yes, I have a daughter," she said wearily. "And no, I didn't tell you."

House frowned, and she realised with a smidgen of surprise that it was obviously something he had been inwardly considering. In that moment it was clear to her that Chase and Foreman didn't speak of their interactions with her. For what reason, she wasn't sure.

"Sorry, Cam, it's just… a shock," Foreman admitted, after a lengthy pause. "She looks just like you."

"Just in case there was any doubt," House muttered.

Chase ignored him. "Congratulations," he offered sincerely. "Uh, two years overdue."

"Thanks," Cameron smiled.

House clapped his hands. "Well, great. Now we're all reunited and everything, I do believe we're still on the clock for another few hours. You know Cuddy, she's a real stickler for that stuff."

Foreman shot him a look. "Aren't you supposed to be in the clinic?"

House waved a hand. "Oh, semantics. Where's Hudson?"

"Doing the MRI", Chase repeated impatiently.

"He's your replacement," Foreman added unnecessarily to Cameron.

She lifted an eyebrow, but remained silent. House looked annoyed. "Well, we do have blood work, don't we people? Shouldn't you be doing that right around now?"

Foreman folded the papers under his arm, sighing tiredly. It had been an unspoken agreement between them that when House was feeling particularly snarky it was better not to oppose him. "We'll catch up with you later, Cameron."

Chase shifted, patting her on the shoulder. "Yeah. We should go out for a drink or something after work." He reconsidered, glancing uncertainly down at Brooklyn, who was eyeing them all curiously. "Or ah, maybe something else."

Cameron smiled at him reassuringly. "We'll work something out, Robert."

He nodded, smiling briefly in reply, and slipped once again out of the room.

House slid his forceful eyes slowly over her, and she blinked back at him. The old, familiar discomfort had settled in. She mourned its return.

"I have to go, anyway," she murmured at last, breaking away from his silent, powerful gaze. She strode over to Brooklyn, taking the little girl by the hand. "I have a meeting with the Immunology department head in ten minutes."

House remained silent, and she sighed, starting for the door. She paused on her way, unable to leave their meeting quite like this. She twisted to look at him considerately. "House… It was good to see you again," she offered honestly.

House nodded, a terse, mute gesture of acknowledgement. He met her gaze, and there was some faint measure of agreement there. She decided that it was going to have to be enough. She turned back towards the briefing room, wholly aware that his eyes were on her the entire time.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Succumb (3?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

It wasn't difficult to get a babysitter for Brooklyn. Her friends outside the hospital, few as there were, had no painful associations in her mind and were fully aware of Brooklyn's existence. One of her old girlfriends was more than willing to take her off her hands for the night, and she was free to meet the boys for drinks at their old, familiar haunt.

They had initially bonded over their shared tyranny under House, but genuine friendship had bloomed between the three of them over their time together, and she was feeling oddly nostalgic as she sat opposite them at their table.

The interior of the bar was familiar and comforting. The rich mahogany walls and booths were calming in their New England style, and the mingled smells of alcohol, smoke and leather washed over her, transporting her back three years and restoring their missed rapport. Muted conversation filtered over them from neighbouring tables, and low, gentle jazz music provided a numbing soundtrack. She felt relaxed, carefree and at home. She had forgotten what that felt like.

A few drinks later, after all mindless pleasantries were taken care of, Chase appeared ready to address the pressing question looming between the three of them.

"So, why didn't you tell us?"

She slid a slender finger over the condensation on her glass, avoiding their penetrating stares. She was slow to respond, silently considering her answer. How could she ever properly explain what it had felt like; knowing they were there, but so far from her life? Her time in Princeton often felt like a dream; indistinct and blurred, like a faded watercolour. They had been friends, yes, but also colleagues, and once she left the hospital the ties that bound them together were permanently severed.

"I… don't know," she murmured at last. "It didn't feel right telling you something that important over an email."

Foreman frowned disbelievingly at the lameness of her answer. "What, and you couldn't pick up the phone over in Boston?"

Cameron gave him a tired look. "You didn't."

Foreman shrugged impatiently. "We were giving you your space. You left kind of unexpectedly. We always thought you'd…"

"Come back?" she finished quietly.

He sighed, and Chase tactfully cleared his throat. "We just thought you might have needed a breather from House for a while", the Australian explained gently. "We didn't think it would be permanent."

"And then what?" she prompted idly. "You didn't want to tempt fate?"

"We didn't want to upset you," Foreman corrected sternly. "And a lot of time had passed by then. Things just kind of… They changed, okay?"

"Yeah." She couldn't blame them. She had strived to avoid their contact for the first year, and after that, she had her own problems to deal with.

"What happened to your job at New England?" Chase prompted. "I can't imagine how you juggled that with a daughter."

Cameron shrugged. "I managed," she said distantly. It had been a struggle, but single motherhood was a hardship they wouldn't understand. She didn't want to elaborate on it.

"What about now?" Foreman asked hesitantly. "I mean, is this a permanent move, or are you just staying for a while?"

"I'm only consulting," she reminded him.

He shrugged dismissively. "So? Cuddy already knows you. The Immunology Department has been short-staffed ever since Jackson resigned last month. If you ask me, she's trying to set you up for a job."

Cameron frowned, but she didn't say anything. She had suspected as much herself, but she had never actually voiced it aloud. Returning to Princeton-Plainsboro full-time was a concept too premature to even consider at the moment.

"Would you come back, Cameron?" Chase asked softly. Both eyed her curiously, but she sensed they wouldn't push her decision. It had been a long time since they were in the same city, let alone pressuring each other on personal matters. As much as it pained her to admit it, they didn't really know each other anymore.

"I don't know," she admitted at last, studying the wood grain table with renewed fascination. There was no denying her fellowship had been a difficult time, but it had also been extremely beneficial for her career. The Princeton-Plainsboro hospital was renowned for its reputation. Working under the esteemed Dr. House certainly hadn't hurt, either. The hospital had been a wonderful place to work, colleagues aside. It wouldn't be terrible to come back to.

"I might."

Foreman and Chase exchanged a subtle glance. Foreman tapped his index finger against his glass, clinking the ice inside. "You're worried about House," he deduced flatly.

She blinked. Did she appear that transparent? "No, that's not true," she protested mildly. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but acknowledge another relevant point. If she did return, it would be as a fully qualified doctor. This time, at least, she and House would be on equal turf.

Foreman rolled his eyes at her evasiveness. "Please. He's given us all plenty of reasons to walk out in the past. You especially. We don't blame you for leaving."

So they had finally entered this conversation. She had known they were going to eventually. "He's not the only reason I left."

Both Chase and Foreman looked like they didn't believe her, but they didn't say it. Chase leant back on his stool. "What was going on when we walked in?" he asked, eyeing her carefully. "Things seemed pretty tense in there."

Cameron furrowed her brow. "We had just seen each other for the first time in three years. I surprised him. How did you expect him to react?"

Foreman pursed his lips, remaining typically stoical. He was oddly protective of her, particularly when it came to House, and she could see that brotherly instinct was flaring to newfound life. "How did he react to Brooklyn?"

The name sounded foreign on his lips, but it was the question that gave her pause. She flicked at the cuff of her jacket, giving her hands something to do. "I don't know. I guess he was surprised. He's not exactly renowned for displaying his emotions."

The three of them shared a brief chuckle at the truth in that statement.

"How has he been?" she spoke up carefully. It was something she had been curious about, but had lacked the confidence to ask until now. She attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance, glancing down at her drink. "I mean… since I left?"

Foreman allowed his eyes to wander over her face, and Chase remained silent, observing her cautiously. "Fine," Foreman answered slowly. "You know, his usual self. He was a bit weird after you left. Kind of subdued, I guess."

"He seemed… different," Cameron acknowledged, frowning slightly at her inability to properly describe the changes she had glimpsed. "More… bitter than he used to be."

Chase shrugged loosely. "A lot's changed since you've been gone. We've had some tough cases, a few problems with the department."

"Oh, let's not forget Hudson," Foreman added, sipping his beer.

Chase smirked. "Oh, yeah. He really doesn't like Hudson."

Cameron lifted an eyebrow, prompting them to go on.

"They… clash," Foreman elaborated. "Hudson is polite to him to his face, but…"

"He goes running to Cuddy a lot," Chase filled in, looking slightly uncomfortable. Cameron couldn't blame him. They all remembered what he had done to House with Vogler, so long ago now. That situation aside, they had all gone to Cuddy behind House's back at least once before, when his controversial methods needed questioning. Without prompting, however, seemed blatantly disloyal. Foreman and Chase clearly thought so, too.

"Why doesn't he just fire him?" Cameron spoke up in confusion.

Foreman and Chase heaved a simultaneous sigh. Apparently it was something they had both considered. "He had… a lot of trouble hiring a replacement after you left," Foreman admitted reluctantly. "You know what he's like. Cuddy had to step in and do it herself. She must have threatened House about it, because Hudson's still around."

Cameron considered this information thoughtfully, finishing her glass. She couldn't help but reflect on what this meant. For the first time, her three-year absence was starting to leave its permanent mark.

"So, what about you guys?" she asked, making a silent decision not to spend any more of the night contemplating the enigma that was Gregory House. She forced an easy smile to grace her troubled features. "What else has changed?"

If they sensed her need for a diversion, they decided to play along. She felt another, genuine smile forming, and bit the inside of her cheek to keep it from escaping. She was definitely beginning to remember why they had been such good friends.

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	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Succumb (4?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

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House sat at his piano, fingers softly scouring the keys without allowing the melody to escape. A glass of scotch rested at his elbow and he stared at it distantly. His mind was clouded with unwelcome thoughts, thoughts of a certain young immunologist, who had made an unprecedented return to his life.

_Not so young now_, he reminded himself dimly. He scowled, wondering why Cameron's reappearance had bothered him so much.

The fact that she had just decided to flit back into his life—with a daughter in toe—like the last three years had never happened was enough to piss him off. She had been an unneeded complication then, but her absence afterwards had served as a constant, mocking reminder of what might have been.

Everyday he faced off with that idiot Hudson he was reminded of how much he would have preferred Cameron. Judging by Foreman and Chase's cold reception towards the guy, he wasn't the only one. The balance of their team had been permanently shifted. He had hired them for differing, baseless reasons, but he was pleasantly surprised by the value each of them managed to offer to his team.

Foreman's street smarts also gave him the confidence to oppose him; a quality the other two had lacked. Chase's self-preservationist instincts meant that he could be manipulative when the situation required it; again, something the other two lacked in their integrity. Cameron balanced them out with her likeability and raw honesty. Her idealism had been her flaw, but it had also proven to be an asset. Losing her had cost him a vital part of their dynamic. Hudson was a shameless tattler with no backbone, and the only valuable thing about him was his skills as a doctor. House's selection criteria proved that that was, perhaps, not his foremost concern.

She also appeared to have flourished quite successfully without him. He had given her a recommendation for The New England Medical Centre, and her new supervisor had called him a few months later, to give him an update on her progress. She didn't know about that. No one did. Cameron was a taboo subject around him.

The fact that she had managed while raising a small toddler was admittedly impressive. He could allow himself to admire her the same time he resented her. He resented her for destroying his work environment, and he resented her for leaving at all.

A low rap sounded at his door, and he rolled his eyes, knowing full well who it was. He took a swig from his drink, leisurely wondering if he could just leave him hanging in the hallway. At last, he grabbed his cane, grudgingly rising from the piano bench to open the door.

Wilson lifted an eyebrow, shrugging out of his coat as House swiftly trudged back into the room, slumping once again behind the piano.

"I see you've taken up your customary sulk position for the night. All you need now is the Sarah McLachlan CD and you'd be completely pathetic."

House did not appreciate his friend's dryness. Obviously he had decided Cameron's presence lifted the unspoken ban on the subject.

"Julie kick you out again?"

Wilson gave him a tired look, and he knew he had hit a sore spot. For some unknown reason, the two of them had managed to weather out another three years, a record for one of Wilson's marriages. Though Wilson didn't mention it, he knew Julie had been pressuring him for a child for quite a while now. He thought of Cameron's convenient arrival with one of her own, and decided the irony amused him.

"It's nice to know we can skip past the preamble."

"We don't do preamble. It's too predictable."

Wilson shrugged, slinging his coat over House's sofa. "I thought… I would come and see how you were doing."

"Just peachy, Doc," House offered. "The OC starts in about twenty minutes, though. I know you're a big fan of teen soaps so you might want to hit the road in time to catch it."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I'm assuming by the added sarcasm that your meeting with Cameron didn't go well."

House frowned at him. He smirked slowly. "You saw her."

Wilson shifted, attempting to come across as indignant when he realised he had been caught out in his statement. "Yes, I did see her. We… talked, and she left. What's wrong with that?"

"A little warning would have been swell."

Wilson rolled his eyes, resting on the arm of the sofa. "And ruin the surprise? The karmic irony? How could I resist? It's not everyday you see Allison Cameron with a daughter."

House scoffed. "Well I'm glad you're getting a kick out of this."

Wilson shook his head impatiently. "Come on, House. She's not married. You noticed that, right?" He smiled pointedly. "If she didn't tell you."

House turned his attention back to the keys. "Are you playing Matchmaker again? I told you not to watch that show. It warps your brain."

"So nothing happened between you two… before she left?"

House could see where Wilson's thoughts were headed. He jabbed his glass at him irritably. Of course _that_ rumour was going to be popular. "Hey. Don't even think about it."

"What? You have to admit, it looks slightly off that she shows up with a two year old daughter three years after she left?"

"Save me the clichés, Jimmy. Your romantic streak is embarrassing."

Wilson folded his arms, dropping his half-serious grin. "House… It hasn't occurred to you that maybe you're being offered a second chance here?"

House gave him a withering look. "The guy with three marriages under his belt is giving me love advice? Nice."

Wilson frowned. "As opposed to the hundreds of other people clambering to give you advice? Admit that you've changed since she left. You haven't been the same for a long time."

House felt his fingers pinch tightly around his glass as he took another sip. He slid his fingers again over the piano keys to avoid meeting Wilson's gaze. It was a little too knowing. He knew Wilson and Cuddy talked about him behind his back. Considering they were about the only two people in the world who would freely admit to feeling concern for him, they naturally conspired together.

"I've changed because she left a gaping black hole in my team and nobody makes my coffee anymore", he said sarcastically. "Cuddy hired that twit Hudson. A monkey would have been twice as competent."

"Only because you couldn't hire a replacement. Nobody measured up, right? Face it, nobody is ever going to measure up to her."

"Will you stop it?" House snapped, turning roughly towards him. "Enough with the star-crossed lovers crap. Why are you bringing this up?"

"Because you wouldn't let me talk about it for three years and I'm talking about it now. You're getting harder to deal with everyday and the few people who do like you are finding it twice as hard. Now that she's here it's going to get even worse and I'm really not in the mood for it."

House gave him a dark look. "No one said you had to deal with it."

Wilson clenched his jaw. "Why are you always so difficult? She was the last chance you had to be happy and you blew it. I know it. You know it. I wish you could just face up to it."

"As fascinating as this all is, I have TV to watch. You're on my chair."

Wilson scowled, rising to his feet and slinging his jacket tetchily over his arm. "Fine. Be unhappy for the rest of your life."

"Bit of a dramatic statement, don't you think?"

Wilson slumped in defeat, putting a hand over his face. "I give up. I really do."

"Glad to hear it. I knew I'd break your spirit one day."

He sighed, a deep, weary sound that echoed in the sudden silence of the room. House truly did wonder why Wilson put so much effort into his arguments sometimes. He knew they got him nowhere. He was a lost cause, plain and simple. Wilson harboured some fanciful illusion that there was still some hope of getting through to him.

"Got anything left to drink?" the oncologist asked at last, pursing his lips as his standard sign of resignation. House gestured vaguely to the bottle of scotch on the piano, already flicking through channels on the TV.

Their arguments were usually resolved this way. There were no apologies, because they didn't do apologies. Wilson didn't want to go home, and House preferred mocking the characters out loud instead of inside his head.

The two men settled respectively on the armchair and the sofa, silently watching the characters play over the TV. Neither acknowledged that they weren't paying the slightest bit of attention, and that they were both thinking about exactly the same thing.

-----------------------------------------------


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Succumb (5?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

It was difficult to readjust to the habit of socialising with her co-workers. For the past three years, at The New England Medical Centre, she maintained her persona as the quiet, polite, driven single mother. That label alone made people nervous of her. Very few doctors juggled parenthood alone. It set her apart from them, and that was fine with her. She didn't need to build roots or lasting friendships. It certainly hadn't worked the first time around. Her sole responsibility, as far as she was concerned, was her daughter. Everything else was secondary.

So, although she was hesitant about it, Foreman had asked her to meet him for lunch and there was nothing she could do but agree. He was running late, and she knew the Diagnostic Department was working on a case, so she slipped into the briefing room to wait for him to finish whatever it was he was up to.

It was empty. She allowed herself a brief sigh of relief.

She slowly paced the length of the room, pausing in front of the whiteboard and scanning their progress. She had become so accustomed to conducting their work through House's unconventional methods. Being such a small team had only added to their efficiency. House's familiar jagged scrawl was unmistakable. Symptoms were written and then crossed over. They appeared to have settled on Meningitis. For now, anyway.

"Can I help you?"

The voice startled her, and she glanced around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. He looked about Foreman's age, with neat black hair and piercing brown eyes. He was handsome, in a vague sort of way, and he was clad in a distinctive white lab coat. Even if she hadn't spotted his ID, she would have realised who he was.

"You're Dr. Hudson, right?"

He blinked, swiftly turning on a charming smile. She smiled back uneasily. She was familiar with the type, and disliked him on sight. As a general rule House refused to like anybody, but he had a particular aversion towards certain people. He was unremittingly perceptive, so she usually trusted his judgment. She could see that he had been right yet again.

"That's right. And you are?"

"Dr. Cameron," House's familiar voice interrupted, in a low, rumbling drawl that caused sudden Goosebumps to rise down her spine. He limped into the room, shooting Hudson an irritable look. "To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

She knew she had been tempting fate by waiting for Foreman in the office. Perhaps that was why she had done it.

"I was waiting for Dr. Foreman," she answered carefully, clearing her throat. She wondered if he had noticed that she couldn't meet his eyes. "Do you know where he is?"

"With the patient, I think," Hudson spoke up, eyeing her curiously. "They had to transfer him to the clean room. He might be a while."

"Oh."

House lifted an eyebrow, breezing past her towards the coffee machine. He paused in front of it, slowly pursuing his lips. "Say, Cameron… for old time's sake…"

Somehow, it didn't surprise her than he had decided to pretend their meeting the day before hadn't happened. For a moment, it felt as if they had travelled back several years, falling into their old, familiar routine. A routine in which he had control.

She stared at him for a moment, and he met her gaze, almost daring her to get angry. He didn't deal with his emotions. As someone of the opposite nature, it had once been a source of great frustration for her. When he came across a situation that made him uncomfortable, he either mocked the party involved or ignored it completely. Clearly, he had decided to settle on the latter option where she was concerned.

She deliberately rolled her eyes, moving slowly past him to prepare a new batch. She needed to give her hands something to do, and his stare was mildly off-putting. It was so much easier to give in.

House took a seat at the briefing table, smirking in satisfaction, as if he had won some recurring battle. She supposed he had. Even after three years, he managed to have the upper hand. He lowered his head, flipping idly through what she assumed was the patient's file.

Hudson also took a seat, taking in their unmistakable familiarity; the underlying tension in their actions. "Ah, _so_-- I'm guessing you used to work here?"

House sighed, stretching the muscles in his neck and shoulders. "Way to state the obvious, Padre. Meet your predecessor. Our standards must be declining. She's so much more attractive than you are."

Cameron leant against the counter, wringing her hands distractedly in front of her as she waited for the coffee to brew. The hospital had a crèche for employee children on the sixth floor that she hadn't known about until just yesterday. Without Brooklyn, she felt strangely exposed in her old workplace, like her former, naive self. It was not a feeling she enjoyed, and she decided that if Foreman took more than five minutes she was heading down to lunch alone.

Hudson looked unbothered by House's snark. Either he had gained an immunity to it like the rest of them had eventually developed, or he felt he had something over House that gave him additional comfort. Cameron strongly suspected it was the latter.

"What are you doing back at the hospital?"

She inwardly frowned, mildly annoyed by his casual nosiness. "I'm, ah, working in the Immunology department," she said, hoping she sounded polite but decidedly uninterested. She recognised the way his eyes scanned her, and had a sinking feeling he had decided she was available. It was treatment she had grown accustomed to in such a male dominated workplace.

Hudson either missed her efforts to dissuade him, or decided to ignore them. "Really? I heard they were short-staffed. Are you thinking of staying?"

House's head snapped up slightly, and there was no way Cameron could pretend to have missed it. She hesitated, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Uh, I don't know. I haven't really heard anything about it."

It was a blatant lie, and House was the master at detecting a good lie. He continued to flip through the patient file, keeping his eyes fixed downward. "Don't feign modesty now, Dr. Cameron. Cuddy's probably salivating to have you back at the hospital."

Cameron thought that was a bit of an exaggeration. She always got the impression that Cuddy liked her because she was good for House, not for her skills as a doctor. "I don't know. I think it's still too soon to be considering a move."

Thankfully, the coffee finished brewing, and she snatched House's favourite red mug from the side of the sink, quickly filling it. Despite the fact that many of the tasks she had once done for him might have classified her as a glorified secretary, she knew House didn't think of her that way. He made derisive, often sexist remarks, but she had always been assured he valued her contribution as a doctor. It was one thing she had never doubted.

She extended the mug towards him, and he glanced up at her, slowing taking it from her hand. Their fingertips grazed for a mere second, but a flash of electricity sparked between them, and Cameron snatched her hand back just as quickly.

House returned his attention to the file, like he hadn't felt it at all. She wondered if her presence even affected him like his always seemed to affect her. Even after three years apart.

"Well, I think I'm going to head down to the cafeteria", she said quickly, thankful her voice sounded firm and not shaky. "Can you please tell Foreman where I am if he gets back?"

Her eagerness to escape could not have been any more obvious. House lifted his eyes to hers, sipping his coffee slowly, before glancing across at Hudson who didn't appear to be leaving any time soon. "I think I'll come with," he announced, placing the mug carelessly on the table.

Cameron blinked, taken aback by his sudden announcement as he rose to his feet beside her. He shrugged at her look, shooting a pointed glance at Hudson. "I need to find Wilson so I can spring for some lunch money," he explained. "Hudson, you play messenger."

Hudson glanced between them, looking slightly disgruntled. Cameron could see House took a twisted sort of pleasure in it. "Sure."

She followed House through the glass door, silent as they made their way towards the elevator bank. He didn't look any more pleased to be alone with her than he had been with Hudson. The elevator doors drew closed, shutting out all other noise and suspending them in a strange, electric silence.

She was surprised when he decided to break it.

"How did it go? With Foreman and Chase last night?"

She spared a brief glance at him, uncertain if it was the question or the complete lack of sarcasm that set her off balance. "Uh, it went okay. It was… nice to see them again."

He nodded, staring straight ahead. "They tell you about Hudson?"

She smiled dimly. "They said he was a jerk."

House looked faintly amused by his employees' opinion. "Among other things," he agreed monotonously.

"They said you're not allowed to fire him," she added boldly. It gave her a brief thrill; knowing she was no longer one of House's employees. She could speak to him honestly, without worrying about the consequences. Mostly.

House looked down at her, swinging his cane idly by his side. Her need for defiance seemed to amuse him, and he smirked slightly. "What makes them so sure I'm not making him suffer first?"

The elevator doors slid open before she could voice a reply, and they headed towards the outside cafeteria. Wilson was reading a paper at an empty table, and House lifted an eyebrow at her. She nodded guardedly, accepting his silent invitation.

The fact that he was making an effort to restore some form of rapport between them surprised her immensely. They had, in their own unique, bitterly twisted way, been friends once. There was no way she could refuse him.

Wilson glanced up at their approach, and a welcoming smile lit his face. She smiled back. Being accepted by Wilson was like a silent permit into their secret club. "Hey, Cameron."

"Hey."

"Foreman stood her up," House offered, taking one of the opposite seats. "And she was excellent cover to escape from Hudson."

Wilson looked amused, folding the paper on the table in front of him. "You want money, don't you?"

"You make more than I do, don't be greedy. I can't ask Cameron to pay. That would just be _rude_."

Wilson rolled his eyes, extracting a twenty from his wallet. "You're like a child, you know that?"

"I hear that all the time." He glanced at Cameron, who had sat down beside him. "Want anything? Wilson's buying."

She wondered if this was his way of making up for their meeting yesterday. Wilson looked taken aback by his kindness, so it wasn't just her. It was a rare show of amiability from him nonetheless, and she decided to accept it. "A salad?"

He rolled his eyes. "Women don't know how to eat."

He strode off, money in hand, and she wondered if he was going to bring back something completely unappetising instead.

"Things look like they're better between you two."

Her eyes darted over Wilson, who was eyeing her perceptively. She knew he had encouraged a relationship between her and House, but she had no doubt his intentions were entirely honourable. Nevertheless, she felt slightly nervous discussing House with him. She knew anything she said might get back to him, voluntarily or not.

"Sure. I guess."

He smiled faintly. "Trust me, they are. I haven't seen him this interested in anything for months. It's hard to get him further than his office much these days."

She frowned, askance. "Why?"

Wilson shrugged reluctantly. "He's… tired. Wouldn't you be?"

She looked down at the table instead of answering. Wilson sensed her discomfort and easily changed the subject. "How are you taking the transition?"

She glanced up again, leaning back in her chair a little. The stiffness in her shoulders relaxed slightly. Good. A question she could answer. "Fine. Dr. Kendall is nice."

"I forgot, you've never met. She's quite good, don't you think? Cuddy hired her about two years ago now, after McPherson retired."

They fell into familiar banter about their collective cases, and she just had finished explaining her current case when House returned.

"I don't know what this is, but it looks much better than a salad," he declared, dropping a sandwich wrap in front of her.

She gave him a small smile, amused and oddly touched that he had chosen something that was basically the same thing she had ordered. "Thanks."

"Yeah, well, the lunch staff haven't gotten much better since you left, so don't be surprised if a severed finger turns up in there."

Wilson rolled his eyes, sipping the latte at his elbow. "Nice, House. I'd really want to eat that now."

"You're drinking a ladies' drink, Jimmy. You get to voice no opinion."

House displayed a rare, unguarded openness when he was around Wilson and she thought it was an interesting thing to witness.

"So, any interesting _gossip_ while I've been gone?"

Wilson leant back in his chair, exchanging a brief glance with her. There was something in his earnest gaze that promised secrecy, and she felt assured that he wouldn't mention her concern over House. "Not unless you want to discuss work."

"Work. Work is boring."

"It is when it's not one of your cases, apparently. This self-absorption of yours is vaguely worrying."

House took a big bite of out his sandwich. "Well, we all know the world revolves around me after all."

Cameron chewed a piece of lettuce, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other. The sun beat down on her face, and she let their conversation wash over her, content to play spectator to their odd, achingly familiar repartee. She had missed rare moments like this. For a moment, she forgot the reasons that had caused her to leave, and decided to just revel in the moment.

It was almost enough to make her wonder what life could have been.

-----------------------------------------------


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Succumb (6?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

---------------------------

House had one reluctant foot in the clinic when the familiar brisk _clip_ of a certain hospital administrator's expensive Prada heels sounded behind him.

He contemplated shutting the door in her face with a sort of evil glee for far too long, and finally heaved a dramatic sigh, turning to lean casually against the clinic desk as she neared him. "Dr. House checks in, 1:15pm."

"House."

He lifted his head, pretending to have just seen her. "Oh, Dr. Cuddy!" he greeted with feigned pleasure. "You know, following me around this much could be construed as sexual harassment. Maybe I should consult my employee handbook. Wouldn't want to give the nurses the wrong idea."

"You don't have an employee handbook," Cuddy retorted swiftly, coming to a halt beside him. Clad in one of her typical blue powersuits, she rose just above his shoulder— but no one could argue that Lisa Cuddy was anything but an intimidating force to be reckoned with.

She also happened to be someone he enjoyed goading immensely. She tended to be one of the limited few who could meet his barbs with equal fervour, and he enjoyed exercising his extensive array of comebacks. "I'm insulted that you think I'm not interested in the affairs of this hospital."

Cuddy rolled her eyes at his elusive response. "Please. You're late for clinic duty."

"Come to bust my chops, have you? Fifteen minutes hardly warrants a visit from the big boss, does it?"

She folded her arms, tilting her head in that 'I have something serious to discuss with you' way she had. Which was most of the time. "Actually, I wanted to see if Dr. Cameron was settling in all right. I assume you've seen her?"

House stared down at her calmly. Oh, she was tricky. He shrugged indifferently, unconsciously popping a Vicodin in his mouth; his one obvious tell. "We've exchanged words. Shouldn't you be asking the Immunology Head this question?"

Cuddy merely smiled at him; that serene, knowing smile that got under his skin. "I had a feeling you might know better."

The lengths she went to intervene in his personal life were sometimes vaguely disturbing. He knew she felt like he was her responsibility, and she felt guilty for the role she had played in his infarction, but sometimes she took it a little far.

He pursed his lips. "Funny. You didn't mention rehiring her. A head's up wouldn't have sucked. I might have wanted to remember my camera or something."

Cuddy looked sincerely apologetic. "I'm sorry. I had a feeling I knew what your reaction would be."

He avoided her eyes, seeking out something over her shoulder. Where was Wilson when he needed him? "Right. Well, I have patients waiting. You know the drill. All play and no work makes House bully the schoolyard kids even more."

She held out a hand to stop him. "Just wait. You've kept them waiting just fine until now. I wanted to be the one to tell you that Immunology have decided to refer one of their patients to your department."

House's expression remained stoic. Referrals rarely interested him. They were usually something far too simple that other doctors just failed to pick up on. "Really? I don't remember agreeing to the case."

"It's Cameron's patient."

He blinked at her stubbornly. "This is going to persuade me, how?"

Cuddy shrugged idly. "A prior diagnostic employee can't work out what's wrong with her. What do you think?"

He was quiet, and she took this as a sign of encouragement.

"Dr. Kendall also requested that Cameron be allowed to continue working with your team. I thought it was fair, considering the patient was the reason she was brought in to consult in the first place."

House clenched his jaw. "I already have a full staff."

"Something I don't go a day without hearing a complaint about." She patted him on the chest, looking annoyingly satisfied. "You wanted Cameron back, you've got her. And let me offer you a friendly piece of advice— don't screw it up."

She turned to leave, tailed dress skirt flurrying around her knees with her brisk movement. She headed to her office, and House was half tempted to follow her. But Cuddy could be surprisingly firm on certain decisions, and he had a feeling this was going to be one of them. And he certainly wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of knowing the situation bothered him.

------------------------------------------

House wiped the whiteboard clean, strangely caught up in the symbolism of the gesture. Another patient cured, another life saved. He felt no satisfaction in that regard. The patients had no personal meaning to him; they represented a puzzle, a mystery to unravel. Once that was solved their recovery was of no importance to him. Wilson was the people doctor. He was the investigator.

He was keenly aware of someone's approach behind him, and despite the fact that she had no place there, he knew exactly who it was even before she spoke.

"Can we talk?"

He barely reacted to her presence, feeling a brief spark of irritation at her smooth, hesitant voice. Wilson thought motherhood had purged her idealism. He knew better. She would always see the good in others. She would always see the good in him. Her goodness was intoxicating, and he hated it with a fierce, unrelenting passion.

"Depends. Because if you're pleading off this case, I'd rather not hear about it."

She furrowed her brow, eyeing him uncertainly as he finally turned. "Why would I do that?"

He stared at her, failing to acknowledge her question, waiting for her to speak. She sighed. "I wanted to let you know… that this wasn't my decision. It wasn't my intention to force us to work together again."

House lifted an eyebrow, unhooking his cane from the top of the whiteboard. He strode over to the corner, pouring himself some coffee. He didn't ask her to fix the hastily brewed sludge this time. The bitterness scoured his throat and he revelled in the taste.

"Uh huh. So what _was_ your intention? Work up to it slowly?"

He heard her make a humourless, frustrated noise and she strode up behind him. It was funny, how distinctly she moved. After all this time, he still recognised her edgy walk. Yet her feet barely touched the ground, as if she were even offering that her courtesy. If that wasn't symbolism, well… "It was Cuddy's decision, not mine. If we're going to work together, I don't need you to resent me for it."

"Because it bothers me for some reason?" he asked sarcastically, turning to regard her and leaning against the counter.

She closed her eyes. He allowed himself a brief, surreptitious appraisal of her face, tilted defiantly towards his. Yesterday at lunch, she had temporarily let her guard down around him, and she was undeniably attractive when she was happy. But she was utterly beautiful when she was angry. Maybe it was why he had always enjoyed provoking her so.

"Obviously that was my mistake," she said quietly.

He held her gaze, unflinching in the face of her anger. "What do you want, Cameron?" he asked indifferently. His cruel streak was abundant around her. She was always such an easy target. "Do you want me to cry? To tell you I missed you while you were gone?"

She stared at him stoically, unmoving when anyone with an inch of self-preservation would have turned on him in disgust. She always weathered his cruelty. He wondered why. "No."

"No?" he repeated. "Why are you here then?"

"I don't need you to tell me, House," she said flatly. "I'm not stupid."

He eyed her quietly, wondering what she meant by that statement. "Is that it?"

She shook her head, looking away. "You haven't changed. I was only trying to spare your feelings. Next time I won't even bother."

"Good to know," he murmured darkly, straightening from his perch in an effort to dismiss her. It seemed he was self-sabotaging his prior efforts yet again. "See you at work."

She gave him a lengthy, cold glare, and he was slightly impressed by its severity. Perhaps her hatred of him had finally grown some veracity.

She strode from the room, barely offering him a backwards glance. He turned back to the sink, dumping the contents of his mug as soon as she was gone. He had conveniently forgotten that one of the many reasons he had missed her was right in front of his face.

----------------------------------


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Succumb (7?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

----------------------------------

"I'm telling you, the symptoms match. Weight loss, fatigue, muscle aches. It makes sense."

"And the things that make sense rarely ever fit," House replied calmly. "Differential diagnosis, people. Come on, what else have we got?"

Foreman exchanged a glance with Chase, swiftly rattling off the patient's other test results. Cameron was only half-concentrating. She had brought Brooklyn in that morning, as an act of defiance or genuine need, she wasn't sure. Apparently the hospital day-care centre had limited staff, and only ran three times a week. It was a convenient justification.

The little girl alternated between wandering and crawling around the briefing room, tugging at her mother's pants and studying the four other males in the room. She generally wasn't an attention-seeking child, but it was clear the atmosphere was making her a little adventurous.

It had been almost comical when Cameron first arrived, to see her old and new colleagues' differing reactions. Chase and Foreman were both more than happy to see her. She wasn't sure if it was because she was a welcome reprieve from Hudson, or because they genuinely missed her, but either way, it was nice to be wanted.

Their reactions to Brooklyn, on the other hand, varied considerably. Hudson was shocked, while Chase appeared slightly awkward, a by-product of his own less-than-nurturing childhood, she was sure. Foreman, unsurprisingly, was the complete opposite, perfectly comfortable to give Brooklyn a few minutes of attention. And House… House was quiet and withdrawn, and had evidently decided his way of handling the situation was to ignore her all together, shifting any verbal blame onto Dr. Cuddy, because Cuddy was a universal target for all of his problems.

Cameron wasn't quite sure if his response was because of their prior argument, or because he still wasn't quite used to the idea of her daughter. Either way, he carefully avoided her gaze as they started their initial diagnosis, and if the others noticed, they didn't comment on it.

It was strange. He had been so receptive, even cheerful, the day he took her to lunch. Now he had returned to his standard sullenness, and their awkward tension disrupted the air between them.

Cameron didn't harbour illusions that the situation brought up feelings of nostalgia for him. She felt self-conscious and out of place, and sat in her old chair at the far end of the briefing table, only contributing necessary information. She attempted to put across an air of detachment, but suspected she was failing miserably. The only thing distracting her from becoming completely caught up in her feelings of isolation was Brooklyn—a representation of everything she had achieved since leaving Princeton; the epitome of her personal growth. She no longer needed Gregory House's approval or affection for validation. She was doing just fine without it.

Foreman tapped the marker on the board, and started writing down the symptoms as Chase listed them aloud. House sat at the briefing table, apparently content to pass the power torch onto someone else for a change, tapping his cane faintly against the floor. It was one of his recognisable thought processes.

The other men continued talking, occasionally launching into conflict over the patient's declining condition. Brooklyn seemed oblivious, obviously sensing the harmlessness in their tension. She started to wander.

Over to House.

She stopped directly in front of him, tilting her head up at him timidly. She had little experience dealing with other adults, but her shyness made her a sensitive child and she seemed to have picked up on the unresolved tension swirling between him and her mother. She lifted out her tiny hand, gingerly prodding his cane.

Cameron froze. The others were too heated in their conversation to notice, but she shifted uneasily, wondering how House was going to react to the toddler's attention. She would have gently taken her hand and led her back to her side, but she resisted drawing attention to the scene— and she was admittedly curious to see what would happen.

House glanced down at Brooklyn, apparently unaware of Cameron's scrutiny. She glimpsed a slight, subtle softening in his features.

He gazed back up at Foreman and Chase, casually reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his much-loved Gameboy. He held it out to the girl; keeping one hand fixed around it as she began to tap at the buttons, face alight with innocent delight. Cameron thought she had forgotten how to breathe.

"Right, Cameron?"

She blinked at Chase, who was staring at her expectantly, straightening abruptly in her chair. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The patient had a high white blood count and a high platelet count, didn't she?"

She quickly recovered. "Yes. She also had a chronic infection, which was what we assumed she was still suffering from."

"Right, well that supports my theory that it's vasculitis. I say we start her on Medrol right away."

House finally lifted his head, still holding the Gameboy in front of Brooklyn. "Start her on the Medrol," he agreed, with a surprising lack of opposition. "And add 50 milligrams of Cytoxan."

Hudson cleared his throat from his place in the corner, and she wondered if he was always so inactive in their meetings. "That's a little excessive, isn't it?"

"It'll prove Chase's theory. If he's wrong, she'll get worse, he gets a slap on the wrist and we'll start her on something else."

Hudson looked unsatisfied with this logic, and Cameron watched him cautiously. Judging by the other's descriptions, he had never openly opposed House and she wondered if that was about to change. However after a moment he shrugged, starting for the door. "Fine."

House nodded, as if he hardly expected anything else. Chase glanced back at them dubiously before following the other doctor.

House glanced up at Foreman when he didn't move from his position by the whiteboard. He frowned, eyeing House and Brooklyn strangely before speaking up. "I'll uh, redraw her blood work. See if anything has developed in the last twelve hours."

House appeared satisfied with this decision. "Good doggy."

Foreman continued to frown, pausing again before slowly shaking his head. He turned and disappeared through the glass door.

House re-pocketed his Gameboy, gesturing Brooklyn vaguely at Cameron. "Go back to mommy. She's looking at me strangely."

Cameron blinked, realising that she had indeed been staring at him. She rose to her feet, clearing her papers quickly from the table. "Sorry. I just… Forget it."

House reverted to his former gruffness, as if he knew full well what she was thinking. He gripped his cane, also straightening to his feet. "Most mothers give me that reaction."

He strode into his office, and something spurned her to follow him.

"I'm sorry if it bothers you that I brought her in here. I didn't have anywhere else to leave her."

House was facing the window, and he shook a hand impatiently, turning around to regard her. "It's fine."

Cameron eyed him skeptically. "It doesn't seem like it's fine."

House remained impassive. "Well, if you were so geared up for a tantrum, I would have alerted Chase."

Cameron folded her arms impatiently, stubbornly rooted to the spot. "It would be nice to see _some_ sort of a reaction."

House squinted at her, his stark blue eyes conveying a certain level of weariness. "Please tell me this conversation isn't going where I think it is."

Cameron didn't know why she was pursuing it. The fact that he had allowed her daughter into the room without hurling some sarcastic insult at her should have been more than enough. Maybe it was the fact that he _hadn't_ done so that gave her pause. "You haven't said anything about it since I got here. You haven't passed judgement on me or insulted me—"

House rolled his eyes. "I always knew the girls liked it when you pulled their hair in the playground."

She frowned impatiently. "I just…" She gave a short, humourless laugh at her own behaviour. She was expecting him to mock her. They really were back where they started. "I guess I was just expecting _something_."

House stared back at her, his crystalline blue eyes penetrating her so deeply she felt utterly raw and exposed. He didn't say anything, and she met his gaze, unable to do anything to break away from it. That familiar magnetic pull was present, erupting in a vortex of emotions that would remain unvoiced, bundled in their unresolved confusion.

A crash in the next room brought her sharply back to reality. Her eyes widened immediately and the spell between them was broken. "Brooklyn!"

She raced into the next room, her protective instincts immediately kicking in when she spotted Brooklyn sitting on the floor, pitiful childish sobs escaping her mouth. A crushed flowerpot has scattered fragments of clay and dirt over the floor beside her.

Cameron fell to a crouch in front of her, scanning her swiftly for signs of injury. She had thought being a doctor would make her feel more capable when raising her own child, but it only increased her feelings of constant anxiety. Unlike most people, she was aware of every possible condition that could affect her, and it made her overly paranoid as a result.

She brushed back Brooklyn's soft brown hair, making sure the pot hadn't connected. She doubted it had, but fragments might have deflected from the floor and cut her.

"She looks all right, Cameron."

She jumped when she realised House was just behind her. She had almost forgotten he was there. She barely drew her gaze away from Brooklyn, worry subsiding as the young girl's tears began to fade into hiccups. House's voice was surprisingly gentle, and she could acknowledge that he appeared to be right. She hugged Brooklyn to her for a moment, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she began to calm. "Shh. It's okay, you're okay."

She noticed a superficial cut marring her delicate ankle, and frowned as she pulled away. "She has a… cut," Cameron managed, voice oddly shaky.

House nodded calmly behind her, fixing his cane by her side. "We'll fix it. Come on."

He offered her a hand, and she glanced back at him uncertainly before allowing him to help her to her feet. She lifted Brooklyn into her arms, and House began to riffle in the cabinets, swiftly producing a first aid kit. She reflected on the irony of having a first aid kit in a hospital before placing Brooklyn on the counter, unconsciously running a hand over her hair.

House rubbed some cleaning alcohol over the small cut, shaking his head slightly. "Biggest racket I've heard from the kid yet."

Cameron smiled weakly, leaning against the counter. Wet tears marred her cheeks but other than that, Brooklyn appeared to have forgotten the previous drama, squirming under House's ministrations.

He gently placed a band-aid on her ankle, stepping back. "Too bad we don't have any nifty cartoon ones. I always thought they were cooler, personally."

She swallowed, allowing her gaze to wander over him as he finished his work. "Thank you."

He met her stare, shrugging offhandedly. It was a routine doctor's response, yet she knew her irrationality would have prevented her from acting as calmly. "Sure."

Cameron realised that in the course of the entire incident House hadn't make one single spiteful remark about her over-emotional response. She quietly decided that of all the sentiments she had wanted from him, that was more than enough.

-------------------------------


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Succumb (8?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

----------------------------

"So, what do you think?"

Cuddy kept her eyes focused absorbedly on her paperwork, only half listening to Wilson's drawling statement. "What do I think about what?"

Wilson rolled his eyes, reclining in the visitor's chair on the other side of her desk. They had come to that familiar lull in the middle of the day, and he had retreated to her office for one of their regular meetings. It had become a habit for them over the years, eventually turning into a tacit, weekly ritual. "You know exactly what about. House."

Finally, she lifted her head, fixing her glasses on the bridge of her nose. She glared at him, managing to convey a sense of impatience, as if she hadn't known full well what he was going to talk about. "I don't think anything. I've learnt my lesson. I am not going to interfere in that man's life again." She wrinkled her nose. "Honestly, why I would want to, I have no idea." She shuffled a few papers, resting her hands absently on top of them.

"You care. You worry about him. Admit it."

She frowned back at him. "No… I don't think that's it."

Wilson scoffed. "And putting Cameron on his team again-- that wasn't interfering?"

"That was a professional call. Dr. Kendall _requested_ it. I couldn't just turn her down because House has personal issues. If I let that dictate my decisions there wouldn't be a doctor left in this hospital."

Wilson smirked slightly. He knew she was being intentionally evasive. They had always shared a mutual concern over House's welfare, but Cuddy liked to think it was her way of managing the hospital rather than actual amiability.

"Cameron's changed a lot."

Cuddy gave up on her paperwork, wearily sliding off her glasses and placing them on her desk. "She has a daughter now. I'm sure that's had some kind of effect."

Wilson shrugged. "She's more cautious. That's probably a good thing."

Cuddy stopped, eyeing him sideways. "Oh, come on. You don't really think she would be stupid enough to pursue something with him again, do you?" she demanded hotly.

Wilson folded one leg over the other, smiling sadly. "I don't think she's that self-destructive. But, if _he_ was the one…" he trailed off, shrugging lightly.

Cuddy leant back in her swivel chair, fixing him with a dark look. "He let her go three years ago without a backwards glance. Face it, James; you're fighting a loosing battle. Rehabilitating House is not going to work that way."

Wilson frowned at her choice of words. "Rehabilitation is a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?"

"He's getting worse", Cuddy said darkly. She looked away, studying a painting overhanging the opposite wall; the one with the flowers and the pots that he always thought vastly out of character for her. "We've both noticed it. Doctors are finding it harder to deal with him, and patients are complaining a hell of a lot more frequently. I'm starting to have to let him off clinic duty because he's upsetting so many people. The only people that can stand to be around him are his team, and he's never going to admit that he likes _them_."

"Half of them, anyway," Wilson corrected. He remained calm in the face of her diatribe. This was part of their routine, after all. She complained, and he reassured her. And the world moved on its axis again. "I don't know why you keep Hudson around."

Cuddy waved a hand impatiently at his attempts to dissuade her. "He's a brown noser, but I guarantee you he's the only applicant in a twenty-mile radius who could tolerate House."

Wilson eyed Cuddy thoughtfully. He knew they had a trustworthy friendship. They respected each other as colleagues—and as willing sufferers of House's exuberant mood swings. They could be forthright, and she sounded like she had something on her mind that demanded sharing.

"What are you saying, exactly?" he asked slowly.

She sighed deeply, looking immensely troubled. She avoided his gaze, pursing her lips with a grim foreboding. "I'm saying… that House is going to have to go if he doesn't improve", she admitted reluctantly. "The hospital's reputation can't take any more battering."

Wilson stared at her disbelievingly. He felt the innate need to defend his friend. "House is half the reason we _have_ our reputation!"

She twisted her mouth downward, looking more than a little apologetic. "The bad eventually outweighs the good, Wilson."

He scowled, but he couldn't disagree, and that bothered him more than anything else. House's behaviour had been a lot worse lately. Cameron's arrival had momentarily stayed the inevitable, but if it were only a temporary visit, then things would rapidly decline again.

"That's why you put Cameron back in House's department," he guessed shrewdly. "You're buying him time."

She shrugged, remaining quiet. She shifted in her chair, tapping her nails vaguely on her desk. "She seems to be able to get through to him," she conceded at last. "At least sometimes. And face it, we're coming up short on allies."

Wilson glanced down at a stain on her otherwise immaculate carpet, sighing deeply. He couldn't fault her for strategising. He was slightly more concerned with House's emotional welfare than she was, but his professional future would certainly have an impact on that.

"You're giving him a deadline, aren't you?"

She suddenly looked her size behind her formidable desk, and he knew she loathed being in her current position. She was their friend, or at least something resembling that title. But she was also their boss. It didn't make it any easier to hear.

"I'm sorry. I have to give him a month. Two, at most. If he doesn't improve after that… he has to go."

-----------------------------------------


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Succumb (9?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**----------------------------**

"Hey, _hey_! Not the magic eight ball! I'll be mopping little girl brains off the floor for months. Your mother probably wouldn't even pay for the cleaning expenses."

He moved the eight ball from its precarious perch on the edge of the desk, scowling down at the little girl as if he could somehow make her disappear.

He did not know how he had managed to get himself in this situation.

Cameron had brought her kid into the office, again, and she was so quiet he hadn't thought much about arguing it. Of course that was before Cameron was paged to the patient's room, leaving Uncle Foreman to baby-sit, who was then called for a consult down in the clinic. Leaving House alone with Brooklyn.

Which was just swell.

Foreman didn't look especially pleased about the prospect either, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it. He left with a stern frown and some trifling warning; a warning House wouldn't have minded on a good day.

He was always up for a challenge, but babysitting duty fell short of his normal criteria. He was surprised he hadn't angrily paged Cameron about the situation the moment Foreman left the room. It wasn't like him to be this tolerant.

He glanced down at the little girl uneasily. Brooklyn was shy and quiet, and she reminded him far too much of her mother. An absence his hardened heart was far too used to. He didn't need the constant reminder of the crap he had been forced to endure without her around.

She also seemed to think that the nifty toys in his office were for her to play with, just because he let her touch his Gameboy that _one_ time. He wasn't a kid person. He wasn't a people person period, though kids under three were slightly more tolerable providing they kept the crying to a minimum.

He heaved a deep, exasperated sigh, scanning his office for something to preoccupy her. The patient's MRI scan was tacked to the board in his office, yielding no results. The case was starting to reach that exciting peak of mystery, and he wanted to go over the other test results and uncover something the others might have missed.

At last he lifted his Gameboy reluctantly from his top drawer. He sat on his favourite armchair, taking the opportunity to bend over and place it on the carpet at Brooklyn's feet.

Brooklyn smiled at him, making some nonsensical sound of delight. For whatever reason, she seemed to have decided she liked him. He gruffly wondered if that irrationality ran in the family.

He flipped through the patient file, frowning deeply. Treatment for vasculitis appeared to be working effectively, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that there was something they were missing. Cases were rarely this simple. If the correct diagnosis really was vasculitis, he felt cheated, like the mystery had hardly reached its second chapter.

His Gameboy made a few bleeping noises, alerting him to the fact that Brooklyn had indeed worked out how to turn it on. He sighed, wondering how much damage she could really do to the thing. He was being oddly lenient, considering it was one of his most prized workplace distractions.

House found himself marvelling at how Cameron had handled parenthood all by herself. He wasn't really sure what her relationship with her parents was like, but he knew they didn't live in Boston. It was such a Cameron thing to do; willingly martyrise herself for her beliefs.

He sighed, slapping the patient file tiredly on his knees. Brooklyn had spread out on his floor, enthralled with the game. She was considerably low maintenance for a two year old, he conceded.

He was still watching her when the familiar whoosh of the glass door interrupted the silence.

"What… the hell are you doing?"

House glanced up at Wilson, who was blinking at him disbelievingly. He ambled slowly into House's office, staring down at his friend with an expression of stark incredulity.

"Hey," House said mildly. "You said a bad word."

Wilson rolled his eyes, quickly recovering from his shock. He had seen his fair share of weird things in their friendship, after all. "You know, this would make an excellent addition to someone's Christmas calendar. I should get my camera."

"I'm sure I could rustle up some pictures of you too," House retorted, barely peeling his gaze away from the floor. "Much less G friendly."

"I always knew you would use those for leverage." Wilson settled on the opposite armchair, staring down at Brooklyn with mild curiosity. "Where's Cameron?"

"Patient. Clearly this is her way of punishing me."

"She left Brooklyn alone with you?"

House rolled his eyes. "No. Foreman did. They're conspiring against me."

"Clearly," Wilson repeated dubiously. The two men were silent as they considered the child. It was unfamiliar territory for both of them. Most men their age had families of their own. Men in their profession, on the other hand, found it considerably harder. Neither of them really cared to be included in either statistic.

"I don't get children," Wilson admitted suddenly, frowning thoughtfully.

House had to smirk. "Don't let Julie hear you say that. She might get the wrong idea."

Wilson scowled. "I have two nieces and a nephew. I can deal with them just fine. It's just the parental side that I can't comprehend. Why would you want someone wholly dependent on you for the rest of their lives? It's madness."

"It always helps to go in voluntarily. I don't think chaining you to the bed counts."

Wilson leant back in his chair. "Julie thinks children will solve our _other_ marital problems."

House held up a warning hand. "Hey. TMI. Don't share and I won't share."

"We have a very healthy friendship."

"I've always thought so."

Wilson eyed House, wondering if he had any inkling as to the professional jeopardy he was in. He doubted so. "I spoke to Cuddy earlier."

House continued to watch Brooklyn, who finally abandoned his Gameboy to crawl under his desk. "Let me guess? Your cover got blown, right? Trying to think up a good story for the wife. I always knew you were in good with the boss for a reason."

Wilson ignored him. "We were talking about you."

"Well, I'm flattered. I am a riveting topic."

Wilson sighed deeply. "House, this is serious."

"So is baby-monitoring. Cameron might not like it if she gets returned missing something."

"Apparently you're starting to become a threat to the department."

House blinked at his sudden bluntness, tapping the patient file impatiently on his knee. "I've heard that one before."

Wilson's frustration was mounting considerably. "This isn't something Cuddy or I can protect you from, House. She's giving you a month to improve or she's going to fire you. You must have seen this coming."

House shrugged, unbothered. "Can't say I did. _Hey_, not on the furniture."

He waved his cane at Brooklyn, who was attempting to climb his chair. She immediately dropped back on the floor. He smirked in satisfaction. "Better than a dog."

Wilson stared at him for his inattention, rising rapidly to his feet. "This doesn't worry you? Not at all?"

House stared up at him, barely masking his scowl. "Should it? We've dealt with this kind of problem before. I'm feeling lucky second time around."

Wilson shook his head irritably. "This isn't someone's personal vendetta, House. Your behaviour is starting to worry people. It's starting to worry me."

"Oh, here we go," House muttered, rising to his feet, and sliding into his desk chair. "Out with the daddy complex."

"You're unflappable," Wilson snapped, waving a hand in disbelief. "This is your job we're talking about. I'm not the only one who's worried. Didn't you think there was a reason Cuddy brought Cameron back right now?"

House actually looked annoyed. He reached into his pocket for his Vicodin, only to discover he had left them in his jacket. "What does Cameron have to do with anything?"

"You know exactly what she has to do with it. She's barely been here a week and you've already changed back to something _resembling_ who you were before."

House rolled his eyes. "Not enough, apparently."

"Will you stop treating this like a joke? What is the matter with you lately?"

"Maybe you should worry where it's needed," House snapped, straightening to his feet. "Start with those '_marital problems' _bothering Julie so much." He spotted his jacket slung over a chair in the briefing room, the door to which Wilson was conveniently blocking.

Brooklyn stared between them worriedly, fixed to a spot on the floor. Their shouting had stopped her exploration of the office.

"Oh, that's really mature, House," Wilson retorted.

"Yeah, what can I say, maturity is the name of this argument."

"Well, if I'm forced to come down to your level to make you listen to me, I will!"

"If you guys are done scarring my child, I'd like to interrupt now."

Cameron's unexpectedly firm voice broke their argument. Wilson spun to blink at her, guilt marring his kindly features. House cast his eyes down at the ground, expression typically impassive.

"Cameron," Wilson started haltingly. "We were just…"

"Arguing. Yeah. I think the whole floor got that." She looked at House, arms folded crisply over her blouse. Without the lab coat she looked older, and more secure. For once, her anger was of a protective nature, and it gave her added strength. "Where's Foreman?"

"He had to scamper down to the clinic," House replied sardonically. "He delegated babysitting duty."

She tilted a perfectly plucked eyebrow, moving between them to carefully extract Brooklyn. When she rose to her feet, Brooklyn glanced between them curiously from her newly elevated position. Cameron shot them one last cursory glare before turning and departing from the room.

If Wilson's attempts to jostle him into a sense of self-preservation hadn't aggravated him enough, that small exchange certainly did it. House shot Wilson a brief, darkened look, passing him for the briefing room door. Wilson didn't need to turn to know that the first thing he sought was his bottle of wayward Vicodin. He sighed deeply, lowering his head in resignation.

House's self-destructive behaviour was getting out of control. And Cameron, perhaps one of the limited few who could both provoke and assuage it, couldn't have come at a worse time.

------------------


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Succumb (10?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

**----------------------------------**

Brooklyn was a featherlight weight on her knee, yet Cameron found it difficult to concentrate on the paperwork strewn on the table in front of her. Possibly because she felt like she was under the scrutiny of more than a few members of staff. She struggled to ignore their curiosity, straightening her glasses and scanning over her handwritten notes.

It was quieter in the courtyard than in the cafeteria, but it was definitely not as peaceful as she had hoped. She really needed to hire a full-time babysitter and quell the speculation. But that required setting down roots and it signified a more permanent stay, a move she just wasn't ready for.

Which was perhaps ironic, considering the letter she was currently attempting to draft.

She sighed, glancing at Brooklyn, who perched docilely on her lap. She appeared oblivious to the interest she was garnering, carelessness only a child could luxuriate in.

She flipped back a page, eyeing her words critically. She was so absorbed in concentration it took a moment for her to realise a shadow had fallen over her table, and a familiar _tap_ _tap_ sounded against the pavement.

Cameron lifted her head, keeping her face expressionless when she was confronted with House's steely blue gaze.

"Hey," he said slowly, drawing out that single word as if something far more significant lurked behind it. That seductive lilt that had once sent shivers down her spine.

She maintained her serene expression, eyeing him carefully. "Hey."

He gestured to the table, an uncharacteristic show of courtesy. "Mind if I sit?"

She continued to watch him uncertainly. "Sure."

He limped into the chair over the table from her, glancing down at her paperwork briefly. "What are you working on?"

She sighed deeply, sliding off her glasses. So he wasn't going to acknowledge what had happened earlier. She wasn't surprised. Her prior anger had faded, so she was willing to be lenient. She had obviously walked in during a very heated argument – a rarity between House and Wilson in itself. The fact that he had approached her at all spoke volumes more than a verbal apology.

"It's just a letter."

He slanted an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair as if he sensed her omission. "You always were finicky about mail."

She retained eye contact. He was eyeing her strangely and she refused to be swayed by his suspicion. "I'm organised. Is that so wrong?"

"No. In fact it's usually very good selection criteria for a job candidate."

She didn't take the bait. "Well, I'm not exactly on the market right now."

"Right. So you're not considering the whole job offer pitch?"

His gaze was practically searing. She held her ground with a newfound tenacity that she could tell both surprised and intrigued him. "There are a lot of things to think about."

House nodded slowly. He had always enjoyed their unspoken conversations. She suspected the ambiguity appealed to him. "Very mature reasoning."

"Yeah, well, maturity becomes a parental requirement."

He rested his cane vaguely on a spare chair, looking faintly amused. There was no mistaking the meaning behind her words. "So I've heard."

Silence enveloped them, which Brooklyn took it upon herself to interrupt. "Zwoo!"

It broke the tension somewhat, and House lifted an eyebrow as she wriggled on Cameron's lap, relaxing in his seat. "That's baby-speak for what?"

Cameron allowed Brooklyn to climb onto the ground, tiredly watching her as she ducked under the table. "I really don't know."

Brooklyn proceeded to approach House, staring up at him curiously. She tugged on his pants, curly brown hair fluttering in the breeze. "Up!" she parroted.

Cameron eyed House uneasily, who wore an unreadable expression. She gestured down at Brooklyn, attempting to lean over and grasp hold of her sleeve. "Sweetheart, no."

House rolled his eyes, looking slightly disgruntled. "It's fine," he said shortly, and to her immense surprise, lifted Brooklyn easily onto his good knee, forearms bristling with reserved strength. Brooklyn smiled, settling quietly in contentment, as if she had achieved some higher plan.

Cameron was rendered momentarily speechless.

"I hope she's toilet trained," House grumbled, righting her on his lap with an ease that betrayed his anti-sociable tendencies. "I really don't like getting peed on."

Cameron lifted her eyebrows, watching them in utter disbelief under hooded eyelashes. If she was completely honest with herself, his reaction to her daughter secretly thrilled her. She had never seen him respond so openly to another human being, not without some level of reluctance or snark to hide his obvious affection. That was still evident here, but it bore a transparency that was startling.

She quickly blinked, forcing herself to look down again. It was almost the beginning of a tenuous, unspoken affinity between the two of them and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Feelings for House represented a weaker portion of herself she would rather leave forgotten.

"So… what were you and Wilson arguing about?" she spoke up quietly, flicking her hair behind her ear and giving her racing heart a lengthy moment to slow.

He frowned at her question. "Blunt," he noted, smirking slightly. "That's new on you."

"House."

He shrugged idly, bracing one hand on Brooklyn's leg. It was an instinctual motion— an act to simply to hold her in place— yet Cameron found herself strangely distracted by it, and struggled to concentrate on what he was telling her. "Cuddy wants to fire me," he answered succinctly.

Her mouth fell open, half in surprise at his sudden honesty, half in dismay at his complete lack of concern. "You don't sound… very worried."

"I'm not. Cuddy loves me way too much for that. She'll think of something."

Cameron hesitated, stretching her slender fingers over the papers in front of her. "Why do they want to fire you?"

"Oh, I don't know." He waved a hand impatiently. "My popularity isn't what it used to be. Personally I just think they're jealous. I'm racking up the points so I'm getting voted off the island."

"Wilson doesn't think you're taking it seriously," she guessed knowingly.

House frowned. "You and Wilson… need to get laid. Preferably with each other, so I can kill two birds with one stone."

She smiled, shaking her head. "Typical. Evasive, as usual."

"Again, I reiterate my point."

"Don't pretend your job doesn't mean something to you. We both know it does. You like it here."

House openly scoffed at her. "I don't _like_ it anywhere. Least of all here."

Cameron smiled sadly. "As much as you'd like to think so, you're not a very good liar, either."

House stared at her intently. His mouth lowered in its perpetual frown, but this time there was a level of bitterness behind it. "I think you've been out of the loop far too long, Dr. Cameron. I never lie."

"Right," she murmured, indicating that she didn't believe him in the slightest.

Brooklyn shifted on his lap, and he smelt the soft, baby powder smell of her hair. He gazed over her head at Cameron, who was eyeing him with a smidgen of uncertainty. "You really… don't care, do you?" she prompted softly, eyes widening faintly in alarm. It was that doe-eyed look she had that alternatively charmed and irritated him. Even after all this heartache she had managed to retain that innocence. It reminded him just how unworthy… it reminded him that she was nothing like him, and her compassion was misinformed.

He scowled, avoiding her eyes. This was what he got for attempting to act contrite. A Freudian analysis from the one person who shouldn't be able to make these observations as well as she was. She tilted her head, licking her lips hesitantly. She harboured a genuine curiosity that was difficult to avoid.

"_Why_?"

House had never been happier to see Chase than he was at that moment. He actually didn't remember if he had ever been happy to see the Australian doctor, but he sure as hell was now. He weaved between the haphazard jumble of tables towards them, approaching them briskly and delaying House's expected reply with a flourish.

"Cameron, here you are," he announced. "Dr. Kendall's looking for you. You left your pager in the office."

Cameron glanced up, stilling her hand. "Oh…" She eyed House awkwardly, gaze hovering over her daughter.

House rolled his eyes at her subtly. "Oh, I'm _sure_ we'll be fine. I can sell her into child labour next week."

A ghostly smile quirked at Cameron's lips, and she rose to her feet. "I won't be long," she assured him firmly.

"Take your time," House called after her. "Cuddy doesn't like healthy kids in the clinic. It's this weird policy she has. And she wouldn't want me to shirk my babysitting duties, now would she?"

Cameron rolled her eyes back at him, disappearing swiftly into the hospital's walls. House glanced up at Chase, who remained rooted to the spot, eyeing his boss uneasily.

"Wanna take over, Skippy?" House asked, somewhat impatiently.

Chase frowned. "No, uh, you look like you've got a handle on it, thanks."

House pursed his lips in thought. "Maybe I can teach her some naughty words before mommy dearest comes back. Corrupting the young is always fun."

Chase slowly took a seat at the table, as if he wasn't quite willing to leave House alone with Brooklyn. House smirked at his unyielding loyalty. Something Cameron's absence had failed to diminish. "That's what I thought. Don't we have a patient to be working on?"

"Foreman's keeping an eye on her. She seems to be responding well to the Medrol."

"Well, it's always a good sign when medicine makes sick people better. It makes our jobs so much easier."

Chase continued to eye Brooklyn with the sort of avid curiosity he usually reserved for a particularly perplexing case.

"She's not going to bite you," House spoke up caustically.

Chase frowned, ignoring his dryness. That was never fun. "It's weird, isn't it?" he said at last, observing Brooklyn critically before turning his attention back to House.

House was tempted to roll his eyes. This was not a conversation he particularly wanted to have right now. Or, you know, ever.

"Got a follow up statement for that one, Trigger?"

Chase cleared his throat, leaning back thoughtfully in Cameron's vacant chair. "Well, _Cameron_. I never really pictured her as a mother before."

"Ruined all those late night fantasies forever, didn't it?"

Chase shot him a pointed look. "I don't know, did it?"

House had to admit he was impressed with Chase's directness. He had expected this sort of antagonism from Foreman on the subject, but not Chase. "Well I always had this really good one with a bullwhip…"

Chase's eyes widened. "Uh, I really don't want to hear about it."

"Yeah, it's a bit R-rated. We're sort of in the PG crowd right now." He winked, enjoying Chase's squirm. "Maybe later."

Chase absently scanned Cameron's discarded paperwork, lifting an eyebrow slowly. "Do you think she's going to come back?"

"Why don't you ask _her_?"

Chase looked at him as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of House all of a sudden. "Do you _want_ her to come back?"

House reverted to his typical choice of defence; sarcasm. A trusty weapon if there ever was one. "Do I look like I want to have this conversation with you?"

Chase opened his mouth, and closed it again. House took this as his cue to turn his attention to Brooklyn, who was watching them both interestedly. "Is Dr. Chase boring you?" he cooed in a singsong voice. "Don't be scared of that droopy thing on his head, that's just what he likes to call a haircut."

"Yeah, you know what, I think I'll just head back up to the office now..."

Chase rose to his feet with a resigned sigh, and House turned back to Brooklyn in satisfaction. "See. When you insult them enough, they go away."

"Great. You're teaching her House etiquette. Cameron's going to be thrilled."

"Etiquette rule one," House parroted. "When the help speak, give them a pay cut."

Chase quickly backed away. House sighed, relaxing in his chair. Brooklyn was impossibly soft and light in his arms, making it difficult for him to associate her with reality. The wonder of genetics had never really appealed to him before, but he reluctantly admitted that it was surreal, knowing that Cameron had contributed to her creation. He glanced down at the little girl, who was captivated by a lone bird as it skipped over the adjoining brick wall.

His gaze drifted slowly over the table. Guilt was not an adjective he was familiar with. His fingers casually found the edge of Cameron's letter, and he tugged the flimsy paper towards him, glancing over it slowly.

_To Whom It May Concern,_

_I wish to apply for the permanent full-time position of Board Certified Immunologist on your staff…_

--------------------------


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** Succumb (11?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**Author's Note:** I've been a little slack responding to some comments, so I just want to do that now. First of all, a big thank you to everyone reading and enjoying this. I do intend to continue _'Accused' _and_ 'An Exercise in Futility', _as soon as my final exams are over. I'm sorry for the extremely long delay :(  
If it seems like I have no plan for this fic, I apologise, but I can assure you that isn't the case. In my style of writing I just tend to focus on the build-up a lot (perhaps too much if that is your view), and this can frustrate some people.  
As for Brooklyn's paternity, I suggest re-reading chapter four for clues ;) I'll explain my reasoning at the end of this chapter, and I'm sorry if it's been left a little too ambigious.

So anyway, please enjoy, and more is to come!

--------------------------------

"I think he likes her."

Foreman glanced up from his perch behind the microscope. The clinical air in the small lab provided a lulling distraction from the throbbing in his temples, and he eyed Chase uncomprehendingly, waiting for him to elaborate. "Who, Cameron?"

Chase frowned strangely. "No— Brooklyn."

Foreman wheeled back his chair, blinking at his co-worker slowly. "You think House likes another human being?"

"Hey, it's not impossible. The guy does like people. He just won't admit it, that's all."

Foreman feigned shock. "You mean he _likes_ us? Well, I wish I'd known…"

Chase rolled his eyes, leaning idly against the counter with a newfound determination to prove his point. He held up a hand, ticking names slowly off his fingers. "He likes Wilson."

"That's one," Foreman replied curtly, clearly unimpressed.

Chase narrowed his eyes, warming to the challenge. "Cuddy," he added.

Foreman furrowed his brow. "He does not like Cuddy."

"Sure he does. You think he's that nasty to someone he doesn't respect?"

"He respects her. It doesn't mean he likes her."

Chase scowled impatiently, waving a dismissive hand. "They have history, that's all I'm saying."

Foreman was eager for Chase to make his point and not dwell on the inner workings of one of House's few complicated relationships. "Fine. Who else?"

Chase paused, waggling his middle finger slowly. "Well, there is Cameron…"

Foreman scoffed. "Even that's debatable."

"Come on. You saw the way he reacted when she came back. He still has the hots for her."

Foreman shook his head, turning swiftly back to his work. "I really don't want to think of House in that capacity at all."

"Well, we both know he _can_ actually have a girlfriend. And you're missing my point. He likes Brooklyn. I was with him in the courtyard before, and Cameron had him watching her."

At this, Foreman lifted his head. "What?"

Chase nodded in satisfaction. "See? He didn't even argue. That's weird."

"What's weird?"

They glanced up as Hudson slipped into the lab. The two of them exchanged a brief look. They tolerated Hudson and accepted him as a colleague, but neither of them could get over their initial awkwardness when he was around. They had developed a sort of loyalty with House that Hudson disrupted with his presence.

"Uh, House, and Cameron's kid," Chase supplied uneasily.

Hudson lifted an eyebrow, coming to rest against the counter opposite Foreman's equipment. "You noticed that too, huh? What's the deal with them?"

Foreman chuckled slightly, adjusting the scope over his blood sample. "What makes you think there is one?"

"He's been almost _nice_ lately. At least to her. Did they date or something?"

Chase shrugged, looking faintly amused at the near accuracy of his statement. "Not… exactly," he answered hesitantly.

"But something happened?"

Foreman lifted his head. He didn't like it when people fished for information. Politics was a necessary part of their job, but it certainly didn't help when they had someone intentionally trying to disrupt their ranks. Hudson wasn't even being subtle about it. "What's with all the questions, Hudson? Are you interested in her?"

Hudson immediately scoffed, just as he knew he would. "No. Kids don't really make for a great relationship. I just think it's a little unprofessional that he lets her keep her kid around all day. This is a workplace, for God's sake, not a day-care centre."

"Well, we could always charge for it," House's familiar voice spoke up darkly. "I'll pitch the idea to the boss."

"Dr. House," Hudson said awkwardly, instantly straightening in place. His insincerity was completely transparent. Foreman honestly wondered how someone with House's integrity could possibly stand him. "I didn't mean to imply…"

House rolled his eyes, limping into the diffused room. "What have you got?" he asked Foreman bluntly, effectively ending Hudson's attempts to backtrack.

Foreman glanced back at him, more than willing to go along with it. "This is the patient's second biopsy tissue sample", he explained quickly. "There's no visible evidence that this is vasculitis."

House pursed his lips. "Okay. But the Medrol is working?"

"She's still stable," Chase concurred.

"All right then. Do an angiography and we'll see if you're right."

Foreman nodded, rising to his feet. House remained where he was, glancing over at Hudson slowly. His blue eyes narrowed with that familiar intensity they had whenever he was feeling particularly caustic. "If you've got any more complaints, take them up with Cuddy. They bore me, and I'm sure that's what you're going to do anyway."

He turned back to the door, and Foreman chanced a brief glance at Hudson before following after him.

"House."

House barely stopped, not bothering to dodge a pair of oncoming nurses and forcing them to part to make way for him. "Got something to add, Dr. Foreman?"

Foreman sighed, tucking his clipboard under one arm as he just managed to keep up the pace with his boss. For someone who walked with a cane, he was surprisingly speedy. "Hudson's an idiot."

House paused to glance back at him, reaching the elevators and edgily jabbing the 'up' button. "Thank you for the affirmation."

Foreman rolled his eyes impatiently. "I'm just saying, that he may be an idiot, but he has some credibility around here. If he starts complaining about something…"

"Right." House looked tired, uncharacteristically so. Foreman knew he loathed dealing with office politics, but he suspected there was something deeper going on.

The lights above the elevator doors slowly lit up, and Foreman eyed them before glancing at House slowly. "I don't know if you've considered the obvious solution here."

House turned to him, looking irritable. He tapped his cane on the floor. "Oh goody, advisement time."

Foreman ignored him. "Why don't you ask Cameron if she wants to come back to our department?"

House blinked at him slowly, expression typically unreadable. "Cameron's a busy girl. She's got mommy duty now."

"And she's looking for a job. Let Hudson apply for the Immunology position and rehire Cameron."

"Well, that's a great solution, except for the fact that Cameron doesn't live here anymore and she isn't looking for a job."

Foreman detected a hint of caginess in House's expression. He narrowed his eyes. "Please. It's only a matter of time before Cuddy offers her the Immunology job and she's going to take it. Why would she be here otherwise? Why can't you just admit for once that you actually want something and ask her to come back?"

House glared at him. Foreman could see his hand tighten around the handle of his cane and wondered if he had crossed some hidden personal boundary. It wasn't as if House ever had any respect for them himself.

"If I wanted guidance, I'd consult my Buddha."

Foreman rolled his eyes, bristling with frustration. It was time to cut the crap. "Hey, if I could pick anyone for Cam, it probably wouldn't be you. Actually, it definitely wouldn't be you. But for some reason she's still around, even after all this time, and she still likes you. Think about it."

He turned back towards the patient's room before House could offer some sort of sarcastic retort. He clashed with House on a regular basis but he wasn't one to interfere in his personal business. He could respect that much. Nevertheless, Cameron was his friend and he was willing to step up to the plate in order to defend her.

Things had gone on like this for long enough.

-------------------------------

**Author's Note:** House is not Brooklyn's father. Ihope I haven't dashed too many hopeson that :( My intention with this story is to show how House can feel for Cameron's daughter _despite_ the fact that she isn't his own, _because_ of his feelings for Cameron. I hope that makes sense and it still makes things interesting.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Succumb (12?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch  
**Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**Author's Note:** Thank you very much for the kind words. I'm so glad you're all still enjoying things, and there wasn't much disappointment over Brooklyn's father.

------------------------

Darkness saturated the glass walls of the hospital. House slung his bag over one shoulder, striding gradually down the empty hall towards the elevators.

He had remained late in his office after his team left under the pretext of attempting to correct their diagnosis of Kaitlyn Clark. However, he was soon caught up in the moody tunes blaring through his iPod and had difficulty properly focusing on the case. Finally, he gave up, prepared for another dull evening at home in front of the TV, or better yet, lulling himself into a drunken stupor with cheap scotch and Vicodin.

He turned the corner at the nurses' station, his cane sounding dully on the floor beside him. A dark shape neared him from the opposite direction, and he drew to an abrupt halt just as Cameron stopped short of walking into him.

She lifted her head in surprise. "_Oh_. House. Hi."

"Cameron," he acknowledged slowly. She looked weary and preoccupied. "I'd ask if you were working late but—what work?"

She straightened the strap of her bag over her midsection, eyes darting away from him awkwardly. "I forgot something. I was just coming up to get it."

He lifted an eyebrow, vaguely amused by the lameness of her excuse. "Brooklyn?"

"She's with a friend. I… needed some time to myself."

"Ah. Time that was so important you thought it would be fun to spend it in an empty hospital."

"I wanted time to think," she corrected quietly.

He nodded, voice low and dripping with sarcasm. "Right. On whether or not to turn in that pesky application letter, I bet."

Her face twisted in a startled frown, and she folded her arms in a characteristic sign of defensiveness. She was angry. It only added to his satisfaction. "You _read_ that?"

House felt a smirk form of its own accord. Their earlier camaraderie seemed to have faded, yet again, without Brooklyn to act as tenuous intermediary. Provoking her was so much easier. It was like second nature sometimes.

He wondered why it felt like such an act.

"That surprises you? Since when do I respect anyone's privacy?"

Cameron scoffed, shifting in place. "I suppose thinking you might have grown out of it was too good to be true?"

"Undoubtably."

Silence enveloped them; that awkward, loaded silence that they were so damn good at. His eyes ticked over her. She was staring off to the side, slender frame poised with tension, as if she were prepared to launch off on the balls of her feet at the nearest opportunity.

House narrowed his eyes. "Are you going to apply?" he asked sharply, leaning heavily on his cane.

Cameron frowned at his bluntness. "I don't see why that's any of your business."

"True, but again, I have this quirk about knowing everything about everyone."

"I have a lot of things to consider," she said shortly, starting past him towards the empty Diagnostic office.

He turned, unwilling to be dismissed so abruptly, especially by her. His fingers flexed around his cane as he limped after her, following her into the dark briefing room. "Yeah, I hear those unemployment benefits are really worth it."

Cameron barely glanced at him, scanning the interior of the office until she found whatever she was looking for on Chase's desk; the one that he had once considered hers. "Why do you care?" she asked shortly, flicking her mane of dark hair over one shoulder. She fixed her eyes on him calmly.

House halted in the middle of the room, eyeing her dispassionately. Of course she was going to make this about _them_. "Personally, I don't care. As one doctor to another—"

"When have we ever been 'one doctor to another'?" Cameron questioned derisively. "If you don't have a personal interest in something you're not interested at all. Do you _want_ me to come back?"

"Would that change your decision?" he asked lowly.

She slowly shook her head, pursing her lips. "No."

He stared at her intently. The darkness was a friendly shroud and protected him from her perceptive gaze. "Then why does it matter?"

Cameron frowned, sliding her pocketbook over her shoulder and depositing it roughly on Chase's cluttered desk. "Why are you here?" she demanded snappishly.

House remained typically impassive. "Why are you?" he responded evasively. "I find it interesting that of all the places you could 'come to think' you chose here."

Cameron narrowed her eyes, stepping forward slowly. Her pale features came under a sliver of moonlight as it reflected through the window and she was almost ethereal in appearance. He wondered if that was what she had been these last few weeks; nothing more than a ghost, tormenting him from the past.

"I shouldn't have to explain my motives to you, House. It's not like you would understand what it means to have an emotional attachment to anything."

House lifted his eyebrows, unaccustomed to the venom in her voice. He found himself numb to her insults. "Low blow."

She only rolled her eyes. "If you want me to leave, then fine, I will."

She made to step back, but he surprised both of them, holding out a hand. "Technically you have as much right as I do to be here."

She lifted an eyebrow, attempting to judge his sincerity. Finally, she nodded. "Okay then."

An awkward pause fell between them, and Cameron lowered her eyes to the desk. House didn't know why he hadn't left already. He cleared his throat, dropping his own bag to the table. The load was weighing down his shoulder. "Foreman wants to know why I haven't asked you to come back to the team."

Cameron blinked at him, taken aback by his honesty. "You don't… You have Hudson."

He shrugged. "And I thought I made my feelings on him pretty clear." He took a step forward, feeling the warmth saturate the air between them. "It's certainly a valid suggestion…"

"Dr. Kendall… already told me the job is mine. If I want it," Cameron said uncertainly. Her wide green eyes followed him, sliding up to his face as he stopped, looming in front of her. Even with his weight on his cane he was much taller than her, and it gave him a sense of added control. He liked feeling in control. Cameron was such a volatile addition to his life; she continued to disrupt that self-assurance.

"So why don't you take it?" he asked deliberately.

She swallowed. "Brooklyn… she needs a home. I need to be sure this time will be… permanent."

He had to smirk. "Which is why working for me is such a bad idea."

"Yes," she said, surprisingly firmly.

He nodded, tilting his head down at her. "Why?"

Cameron frowned. "You know why," she said hoarsely.

He stepped closer, effectively eliminating any semblance of personal space. Cameron's breath caught. He had always enjoyed playing on her attraction to him, but now, the uncertainty only heightened the tension.

"Not really," he replied lowly.

Cameron continued to stare up at him, remaining carefully motionless. Her eyes traced his face. "Is playing with me really worth tormenting yourself like this?" she suddenly asked, voice soft and tentative. "Why can't you just admit what you want here?"

House stared down at her intently, annoyed by her attempt to analyse him. "What makes you think I want anything?"

Cameron stared back. "I know you."

He scoffed, determined to hold her gaze. "You certainly like to think you do."

Her jaw twitched defiantly. "I know enough," she repeated flatly. "You hide from people because there's less chance you'll get hurt that way. You play your Gameboy and watch your soaps so real people can't touch you. That hasn't changed. From what I can see, it's only gotten worse."

"Hospital gossip really is a reliable source," House said caustically.

She stood her ground, determined not to let his closeness unsettle her. "I have Wilson for that", she shot back. "And Foreman and Chase. You think I don't know why Cuddy asked me back here? I'm not stupid. She never really liked me; she has no reason to do me any favours."

House hated that she, like Wilson, appeared to have uncovered Cuddy's motives so easily. He noticed everything about everyone. Why was he so blind when it came to himself?

"Oh yeah, I'm really cut up inside. But you're going to make that all better."

She stared at him pointedly. "No. That chance passed a long time ago."

He lifted an eyebrow at her coldness. The need to strike back was overpowering. "What makes you think there ever was one?"

Cameron scoffed, unable to stop the feeling of hurt from welling up in her chest. She backed away from him and turned to snatch up her bag. The days of standing still as he gave her an emotional battering were over. She didn't have to take this. She whirled to leave, and he stepped in her path, effectively blocking her and forcing her back to press against the desk.

Cameron drew in a breath, glaring at him angrily. "Get out of my way."

House rolled his eyes. "Oh, _what_ are you going to do, kick me in the nads? Then again, a girl like you probably has mace stowed away in her handbag. I hear that stuff stings pretty bad."

Cameron swallowed. She never, for one moment, imagined that he would harm her, but she couldn't help the minute burst of fear. "Why are you dong this?"

"What am I doing? You were going to leave in the middle of our conversation and I'm stopping you."

She tilted her chin slightly so she could meet his piercing gaze. "If we never had a chance then why aren't you letting me leave right now?"

House rested his cane by her side, brushing her hip as he did. His bright blue eyes swirled with conflicted emotion and Cameron was caught off guard by their sudden raw honesty. "I don't know."

"_What_ do you want, House?" she challenged bluntly.

"I don't know," he repeated tightly, clenching his jaw.

"No. You never do," she said darkly.

"And you still think you have it all figured out," House snarked. "You really are just as naïve as–"

She seized his jaw with her hand, swiftly cutting off his retort, and drew him roughly to her lips. House barely paused before responding, opening his mouth and allowing his tongue to harshly caress hers. She heard his cane clatter to the floor as he moved his hand, twining it through her soft brown hair and tugging her more firmly towards him.

The familiar rush in her stomach that she had attempted to suppress since returning to Princeton flared to life, and her heart picked up a frenetic pace. The edge of the desk jabbed into her back as they stumbled back a step, and her other hand gathered a fistful of House's shirt in an effort to reassert some semblance of her former control.

She knew he wanted her. She wasn't stupid. It was the unprecedented possessiveness of his returned assault that startled her. She was kissing House, and he was kissing her back. Her younger self would have rejoiced at this moment, but now she was only overcome by a mixture of shock and yearning.

He drew away first, breathing unsteadily, and he cursed her angrily under his breath before limping back a few steps.

Cameron didn't stop him, chest heaving with her gasps for air. Her green eyes sought out his face, and he looked positively torn. She thought it was the most honest, emotional expression she had ever seen him give her.

The full impact of her actions hit her and she felt her heart contract wildly.

She was falling hard for Greg House. All over again. She knew there was no way she would ever land on her feet. Not with someone else along for the ride.

"I have to go," she whispered abruptly. She grasped her fallen bag, throwing it over her shoulder and striding past him so quickly it was almost a jog. She didn't stop until she reached the elevator and the sliding doors closed behind her. She never allowed herself to look back.

It was better that way.

----------------------------


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Succumb (13?)  
**Author: **Teenwitch  
**Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

---------------------------------

As soon as Wilson entered the Diagnostics office that morning, he knew House was in one of his moods.

His bad temper tended to have a ripple effect on all those around him. Chase and Foreman were immersed in silence, alternatively consulting the patient file between them and contemplating their latest diagnosis on the whiteboard. Hudson sat at the end of the table with a mug of coffee; one arm slung over the back of his chair. His expression was highly disgruntled and it wasn't difficult to guess why. Hudson usually took the brunt of House's insults on a good day, let alone a bad one.

The blinds were closed, firmly cutting off his office from any outside light, and the unmistakable thrum of some indiscernible band echoed through the glass.

And Cameron was conveniently missing.

She had been present for their briefings for most of the week, and she was an active participant in the Clark girl's case, assisting the team in any way she could. Something must have happened to account for her absence, and it wasn't hard to jump to several logical conclusions.

"Morning," Wilson finally acknowledged, wandering slowly into the room.

All three men looked up, stoically nodding their greetings.

"I wouldn't go in there," Foreman advised, as Wilson started for the adjoining door. "Not if you value your life."

Wilson pursed his lips, coming to a stop at the edge of the table. He crossed his arms over his lab coat, grazing his penholder with his hand. "Any idea what the problem is?"

Chase lifted his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair. "You think he would tell _us_?" he asked disbelievingly. "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say it was a Cameron thing."

So they were in agreement there. Wilson sighed heavily, glancing at the door again. "Any idea where she is?"

They all shook their heads.

"Okay," he said resignedly, and steeled himself for House's office.

"If he's screwed up the only shot we have at getting Cameron back, I swear to God I'll break his other leg," he heard Foreman mutter on his way.

Thankful the Diagnostician wasn't privy to that particular threat, Wilson edged gingerly into the room. House sat behind his desk, tossing his oversized red tennis ball idly in the air as 'We Will Rock You' blasted from his iPod speakers. Wilson winced, closing the door behind him, crossing the room to turn down the volume.

"Splitting your eardrums is a fairly teenage response, don't you think?" he quizzed abruptly, tapping a finger on House's desk.

House turned in his chair, regarding him emotionlessly. "And what am I responding to, Dr. Freud?"

Wilson sighed, slumping in the armchair in the corner of his office. Tact was definitely a non-requirement around House. It was an adjustment he found particularly difficult, after a day full of cancer patients. "Cameron isn't here today."

House lifted an eyebrow, feigning amusement at his expense. "Well gosh, better report it to the Principal."

Wilson shook his head, seeing through him easily. "What did you do?"

House frowned faintly, tapping his cane on the edge of the desk. "I'm insulted. I hope you have something to back up that allegation. That's slander, Jimmy."

"Please. Come on. What did you do?"

"What makes you think I _did_ anything?"

"Because on many occasions, you can be a real ass. I'm assuming this is one of them."

House leant his head back on his chair, lobbing the ball carelessly in the air and keeping his eyes fixed on it as it sailed towards the ceiling. "I appreciate the vote of confidence."

"House."

The ball stopped, dropping back into his palm. House didn't look up, studying it as if the minute stitching held the answers to the universe. He appeared to be weighing up the negatives of a share session. "I stayed late last night", he muttered at last. He kept it brief. "Cameron showed up."

"Ah." Wilson could guess the rest, judging from his friend's expression. He scoffed openly. "Well, it's good to know that you can be an adult when it's needed."

House turned his head, fixing Wilson with a withering stare. For the first time Wilson realised how utterly tired he looked, from the slump in his shoulders down to the black rings around his eyes— even more pronounced than usual. He obviously hadn't slept that night.

"Actually, you'll be happy to know this is one scenario in which I am completely innocent", House snarked. "I didn't do anything. She did. She's the one who left."

Wilson shifted in his chair, overcome with surprise and sympathy. He knew the best thing would be to hide it. If there was one thing House abhorred, it was that. "I'm… sorry", he said carefully. "I didn't know."

"Why would you? That's my routine, right?" House tossed the ball in the air again, coolly watching its progress.

Wilson joined his hands on his knee, contemplating House warily. They were treading in very sensitive territory now. It was a feat of massive proportions to get House to even open up about his feelings. Eliciting more out of him would be a challenge, and he decided to pursue it cautiously. "So what exactly do you… want from her?"

House glanced at him sharply, looking more than a little annoyed. He clearly interpreted it as disloyalty. "Is this the big brother routine again? Because I already got that from Foreman."

Wilson wanted to roll his eyes. The man was a genius, but he really was as emotionally immature as they got.

"Well, on the vulnerability scale, I think she has you beat just a little bit", Wilson reminded him caustically. "She has a child. You can't expect her to risk herself when someone else is involved."

House swivelled his chair towards the wall. "What makes you think I want her to _risk_ anything?"

Wilson smiled sadly. "You are such a hypocrite, House."

House lifted his eyebrows at this statement, chuckling sarcastically. "_Moi_? Well, I've been called many things in my time-- most of them involving really big swear words-- but that's a new one. Frankly I'm shocked."

"You abhor liars, but it's okay to lie to yourself?"

Rolling the ball across his desk, House kept his gaze planted on the wall. Wilson could still see his imminent scowl. "How very Oprah of you."

The oncologist shrugged lightly. "Julie's a big fan."

"Yeah, I bet you're an honorary member of her book club, too."

Wilson sighed. He could see House was attempting to distract him with banter – and it usually worked. Neither of them was particularly interested in sharing their feelings on a regular basis. It wasn't how their relationship worked. But when it came up, Wilson was generally the initiator, and House treated it as he would any other attempt—with a scathing retort on the tip of his tongue. There were times Wilson found the entire process completely exhausting.

"Look, I know this is going to be hard for you, but I'm going to give you some advice here."

House scoffed. "Am I wearing a flashing red sign lately?"

"No, but for some strange reason, Cameron seems to instil loyalty in people, and they're willing to subject themselves to you because of it", he retorted flatly. "If you're… serious about anything with her, then she needs to know. Reassurance isn't exactly your strong suit."

"It was a mistake," House said shortly, turning around in his chair until his back was facing Wilson. It was a clear sign of dismissal. "Don't go writing songs about it."

"Yeah," Wilson muttered. "Right."

Nevertheless, he rose to his feet, starting wearily for the door. His moral guidance hadn't made so much as a dent in House's armour for the last eleven years of their friendship. He didn't really expect it to start making an impact now.

----------------------------


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** Succumb (14?)  
**Author:** Teenwitch**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**Author's Note:** Again, I really adore your feedback. You're all too nice to me ;)

**--------------------------------**

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy lifted her head, fixing her gaze intently on Allison Cameron. The graceful younger doctor was poised hesitantly at her door, waiting politely for an invitation to enter.

Cuddy resisted a smile, inwardly wondering if she was really all that threatening. She suspected ingrained manners had more to do with it. "Dr. Cameron. Come in."

Cameron smiled her thanks, closing the door quietly behind her and crossing to the chair opposite Cuddy's desk.

"I'm assuming you're here about the Immunology position?" Cuddy guessed shrewdly.

Cameron blinked at her lack of preamble, crossing one leg over the other. She nodded slowly. "Uh, yes, I am. Dr. Kendall told me to submit my application to you first."

Cuddy nodded, closing the folder in front of her to give Cameron her full attention. The two women were really far too different to ever develop any sort of friendly rapport, and their professional dealings had rarely extended beyond dealing with House and the Diagnostic team's more controversial cases. Nevertheless, Cuddy could feel a genuine admiration for someone who was willing to see past House's many flaws and attempt to draw out the person underneath. Sure, it was probably a futile job, but she could appreciate the effort all the same.

"It's just a formality, as I'm sure you've been told," Cuddy explained to her. "Your references are above reproach, and the fact that you completed most of your fellowship here means that you're already well acquainted with the hospital. So if you want the position, it's yours to take."

"Thank you," Cameron said quietly.

Cuddy studied her a moment, taking Wilson's observations into consideration. It was true; she had developed a certain level of maturity that was previously lacking. Cuddy appreciated her skills as a doctor, and if her time at The New England Medical Centre was any indication, they had only flourished in her three-year absence. The one thing possibly marring her application, was knowing the effect she would inevitably have on House.

Of course, that was part of the reason she was rehiring her.

"There's one thing I want to ask first." Cuddy straightened in her chair, fixing her eyes on Cameron intently. She was an adaptive woman by nature, a trait she constantly used that to her advantage when relating to stuffy hospital administrators, visiting surgeons and wealthy patients. She paused before continuing, making the effortless transition to the sensitive supervisory role she assumed she would need in order to probe Cameron. "I want to make sure that your past relationship with House isn't going to be a problem."

Cameron surprised her, meeting her squarely in the eye. She barely hesitated in her response. "I'd hardly call it a relationship."

Cuddy's eyebrows ticked upward, and she subtly shifted tactics. "Okay, fair enough. I just want to be sure you understand how often you'll be seeing each other. The hospital isn't that big. You'll be dealing with him on a regular basis. That's a lot to ask of anyone. It can be a pretty huge emotional requirement."

"I lived through it once before," Cameron said calmly.

Cuddy cocked an eyebrow. This reaction was a little unexpected. "As long as you're sure," she said carefully.

"I am," Cameron replied, smiling tightly.

"What about your daughter? I'm sure the crèche staff could recommend some good nannies."

Cameron nodded. "I've been looking into it. There's a day-care centre near my street that accepts late enrolments."

Cuddy pursed her lips. "Okay. Well, it sounds like you have everything organised. Dr. Kendall should have all of the necessary paperwork, and I'm sure you can start right away."

"Great."

Cameron rose to her feet, and Cuddy sensed a certain eagerness on her part to escape as soon as possible. She was halfway to the door before Cuddy inwardly winced, and called out to her._ I hope you appreciate this, House. God knows I've seen you destroy enough people. _

"Dr. Cameron."

Cameron paused, calmly wheeling around to face her. However, Cuddy wasn't the Dean of Medicine for nothing. She read the momentary panic in her eyes, before it slid behind a carefully constructed mask of composure.

Cuddy sighed deeply, deciding to approach her candidly. "I don't want to intrude on your personal life. What doctors do or don't do in their own time… is really none of my business, and I like to keep it that way." She frowned, struggling to find the words and attempt to maintain a level of sensitivity. "House… cares about you," she said carefully. She scoffed ironically. "He may have a _really_ terrible way of showing it, but he does. And I'm sure he would be more than willing to have you back in his department… if that's what you would prefer."

Cameron pursed her lips, slowly folding her arms over her front. "Are you sure this isn't just a tactic to make sure he keeps his job?"

Cuddy lifted her eyebrows, opening her mouth in surprise. The girl had a backbone; she would certainly give her that. "He told you about that?"

"Yes."

Cuddy was slightly taken aback. The fact that they were clearly socialising outside of work was enough to give her pause. She wondered exactly how much time House _was_ spending with her.

"He also said you would think of something to keep him. I'm assuming this is Plan B."

Cuddy imitated Cameron's posture, folding her arms squarely over her chest. She was slightly impressed with her newfound confidence, but it was time to remind her who she was talking to here. "If you think the only reason I hire my doctors is to keep House in line, you might want to reconsider this position."

It had the desired effect. Cameron looked down, suitably cowed, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry," she conceded quietly. "I just don't want to go back to the team if that's all I have to offer."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Cameron," Cuddy said frankly. "You have some kind of positive influence on him, and God knows we need that around here." She tapped her manicured nails lightly against her desk. "But that's not why I'm offering it to you. House needs a team he _trusts_. You, and Foreman and Chase seem to be able to break through at least _some_ of his barriers, and you work well together. Your success rate was better than we've ever had when you were still around. I'm trying to do what's best for the hospital. And what's best for House," she conceded reluctantly.

Cameron lifted her eyes, staring at her for a long moment. Her inner conflict was unmistakable. "Can I have some time to think about it?" she asked at last.

Cuddy unfolded her arms, resting them casually in front of her on her desk. She relaxed now that she had made her point. "Of course. You can have until the end of the week."

Cameron nodded slowly. She turned and left the office.

Cuddy exhaled loudly, slumping wearily back in her chair. Sometimes she wondered why she invested so much energy in House's screwed up personal life. She only hoped the end result would be worth the trouble.

------------------------------

Her conversation with Cuddy had vaguely unsettled her, and though she couldn't pinpoint the exact reason, she had the feeling she had just been manipulated. She shook her head, rounding the clinic desk, and Cameron abruptly realised she was in for yet another emotional confrontation.

House leant casually against the counter, elbows propped on the edge. His eyes were focused on her steadily. He had clearly been watching her for some time; probably since she left Cuddy's office. When she met his stare, he didn't react or look away, almost searing her with his raw, unrestrained intensity.

She swallowed, slowing her steps as she approached him. To turn around now would be cowardly, as would passing him by completely. And, she could acknowledge, she was the one in the wrong here. She knew she must have hurt him last night, as much as he would try and hide it.

He tapped his cane idly on the floor at his feet, keeping his sleet blue eyes fixed on her as she stopped in front of him. "I didn't see you as hooky-playing type," he noted impassively, indicating her with his free hand.

Cameron cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I had a meeting with Cuddy."

"So I see. You get the job?"

She looked away, unable to stand his probing stare. She felt like he could read into her soul and she didn't like that kind of exposure. "I… don't know yet."

His lips quirked humourlessly. "You're lying."

Cameron frowned. She was vividly reminded of the sensation of his stubble against her cheek, and flushed faintly. "It's personal, and I don't want to share it. There's a difference."

"Distinguishing between different types of lies," House said darkly. "That's never a good sign."

Cameron closed her eyes, bending her head slightly and letting her hair curtain her face. Why not just get to the crux of the matter? "I'm sorry. About last night."

House barely reacted. "Apologising clearly comes easily to you too. I wonder if that means something."

She knew he had reverted to sarcasm as a form of self-protection. It didn't take the sting out of his words. "I wanted you to know that it wasn't because of you. I just needed time to think and…"

"'It's not me, it's you'?" House interrupted sardonically. "Dr. Cameron, I'm disappointed in you. I thought you could come up with something a little more inventive."

"That's not what I—"

"Dr. House", a burly nurse interrupted, appearing behind the desk and extending a clipboard impolitely between them. "Patient in Exam Room 1. He says he has meningitis."

"Great," House said abruptly, fingers closing around the clipboard. He turned to Cameron glibly. "You know what they say; the patient is always right. Or is it the customer? I always get the two of them confused. Just call me the caped crusader for disease. Duty calls."

He promptly lowered his cane and propped it on the floor, starting past her without giving her a backward glance.

Cameron watched him go, feeling a painful ache deep inside her heart. She forced herself to look away from his departing back; filled with the unwelcome knowledge that this was a sure sign he had closed her out completely. Penetrating House's distrust only worked so many times. She suspected she had just run out of chances.

And she only had herself to blame.

---------------------------------


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:** Succumb (15?)  
**Pairing:** House/Cameron**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

-------------------------

House examined the patient's MRI, tapping his cane absently against his chin. It was the hundredth time he had referred to it in the last hour, and he knew nothing new would jump out at him—he would have seen it by now, and if he hadn't, the three other specialist doctors on his team certainly would have.

It didn't stop him from trying through. It also acted as a welcome distraction from the many turbulent thoughts fighting for recognition in his mind.

Medicine was a controllable puzzle. There were unpredictable twists and turns along the way, but the destination was eventually attainable. He liked to think that human beings were the same way. Their baser instincts dictated their actions. Their passions, deceptions and lies were ultimately predictable.

Allison Cameron defied that fundamental logic. She was sweet and pure, but she had a faint manipulative streak and she could rise to his sarcastic quips and respond with equal fervour. Her feelings were completely indecipherable, and that bothered him more than anything else. He understood people. He didn't like them, but he understood them. He read them with an accuracy that was startling. He couldn't get a hold on her, and he couldn't trust himself around her because of it.

He stroked his thumb over the edge of the smooth wood, pursing his lips solemnly. Their latest case was the kind of mystery he enjoyed puzzling over. Patients had often called him obsessive, and he wasn't one to argue with that assessment. If there was one thing he could be confident in, it was his ability as a doctor.

He felt a gentle tug at the leg of his pants, and gazed down sharply, jarred from his musings.

Brooklyn stood at his feet, gazing up at him with her ridiculously wide brown eyes. Everything about her was so clearly Cameron; it was like looking in a distorted mirror. To him, there didn't appear to be a single trace of her father in her, whoever that might be. He didn't ask himself why he felt glad about that.

"What are you trying to do, give House a heart attack?" he demanded, fixing the MRI scan back on the board before turning to give her his attention. He frowned, glancing at the open door and then out into the hall, rolling his eyes heavenward. Whoever had babysitting duty was doing a bang up job.

"Bwa wat," Brooklyn chirped, grinning up at him innocently. He felt an unwilling smile tug at his lips, and then quickly suppressed it.

"Sure," he jeered, striding over to his desk. "Just let me get my babble translator."

He placed his cane by his chair, turning to carefully lift Brooklyn onto the nearby armchair. She was nearly weightless and lifted effortlessly in his arms. He grabbed his tennis ball, hesitating before placing it into her tiny hands. He just hoped she wouldn't chew it or anything.

He considered calling Cameron, then decided against causing her unnecessary panic. If she had been with her mother, she wouldn't have wandered off. He scowled at human stupidity, slumping in the chair beside the little girl, and waited silently.

It didn't take long.

Chase came rushing into the room, lab coat flapping behind him. His long hair flicked in his eyes and he brushed it out of his face, scanning the inside of the office frantically. "Hey, have you seen—?"

He stopped, spotting her perched quite contently on House's chair. He swallowed his words. "Uh, I was just looking for her."

"I see that," House said flatly, narrowing his eyes almost imperceptibly. "Bit hard to lose a human being, isn't it?"

Chase puffed up nervously. "I looked away for a split _second_ and she was gone. The angio showed that Kaitlyn doesn't have vasculitis. The nurse needed to know to take her off the Medrol."

House pursed his lips, unimpressed with his reasoning. "And a two year old wandering around an infectious ward by herself doesn't strike you as wrong?"

Chase opened his mouth in defence, and the adjoining door opened, admitting Hudson into the office. He glanced between them uneasily, perceiving the noticeable tension in the room. "Oh, uh, what's going on?"

House threw a few Vicodin in his mouth, scowl deepening. "Oh, we're just marvelling at Dr. Chase's unfathomable stupidity. So far I'd rate it a seven or eight, but there's extra points depending on what comes out of his mouth next."

"I told you, it was an _accident_," Chase protested, clearly unused to having to defend himself in the face of House's protective instincts. "It could have happened to anyone! She's safe, isn't she?"

House pulled himself to his feet, eyeing the intensivist scornfully. "Yeah, I'm sure Cameron would love that explanation."

"You have to admit, she's a bit of an unnecessary burden," Hudson spoke up unexpectedly. He stepped forward, folding his arms grimly, evidently prepared to stand his ground on the matter. House shot him a dirty look. He wondered if he had gone whimpering to Cuddy yet. It wasn't exactly going to mar his record, but Cameron certainly didn't need those kind of complaints. "We can't treat a patient with a little kid on our heels all the time. The liability alone…"

House's cold blue glare rendered him silent. "I'd prefer her to you right now. They're so much better when the only talking they do is incoherent babbling."

Hudson glowered. "Look, I'm sorry, Dr. House. But if things go on like this, I might have to file a complaint with Dr. Cuddy."

Chase lifted his eyebrows over his shoulder, discreetly lifting Brooklyn out of the chair and awkwardly in his arms. House knew having Hudson around deflected a lot of the jabs he usually sent Chase's way, but the other doctor still didn't seem to appreciate him. None of them did. House didn't even have to pretend to hate him.

"So," House said, greatly amused by Hudson's sudden confidence. "Finally thought you'd threaten me face to face before you went scampering off to Mama? Nice. I'm almost impressed. Course, doing it at the expense of a little kid kind of exnays the toughness factor."

Hudson set his jaw. "I've stood by and accepted these working conditions for long enough," he said firmly. "You can't treat people like this."

House glanced idly at Chase, whose eyes were darting rapidly between them. "I haven't heard any other complaints."

"You're joking, aren't you? Both Dr. Foreman and Chase tell each other how much they hate you every day."

House smirked, unbothered by Hudson's attempts to jostle him. "Yeah, but they love me deep inside."

Hudson shook his head disbelievingly. "I can't—I can't work like this!"

Then it struck House. He was reminded of the very perfect solution staring him right in the face. At the moment, anything was preferable to this twattering idiot.

"You're right," he said slowly, twisting his mouth in thought. "You can't."

Hudson blinked, clearly surprised that House was relenting so easily. Chase looked amazed as well, but the apprehension was far more apparent on his face.

House would savour this moment for months to come. "You're fired."

Hudson stared at him wordlessly, straightening in indignation. He took several moments to summon his words, spluttering unsteadily. "You can't _fire_ me! I have a five-year contract!"

House lifted an eyebrow back at him, sighing impatiently. "Right. Do you want another synonym? I can do that. You're out. Discharged. Cut. Booted. Liberated. Freedom is yours."

"I'll report this!"

House rolled his eyes. "Could you really be any more overdramatic? I hear there's an opening in Immunology. You might not want to mention the 'fired' part though. Employers are really picky about that kind of stuff."

Chase's eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. House leant back on his cane, eyeing Hudson expectantly.

"You don't have anyone to fill my position!" he squeaked. House was slightly embarrassed to hear such a sound emerge from another male.

At that moment, Foreman and Cameron conveniently entered his office through the adjoining door. He indicated Cameron bluntly, ignoring the pang in his stomach at the sight of her. "Dr. Cameron. Want a job?"

Cameron blinked back at him uncomprehendingly. Foreman frowned as he slowly scanned Hudson and House, taking in their defensive positions.

House met her gaze squarely, reluctantly allowing her soft green eyes to connect questioningly with his. The unresolved tension electrifying the air between them was overpowering, but he attempted to convey to her some quiet level of sincerity. Things certainly weren't right, but when had they ever been? He needed her back. He knew that, and so did she.

Tentatively, she nodded and appeared to come to an inner decision. "Sure."

A wide grin burst over Chase's features, and Foreman laughed loudly, slapping her jubilantly on the arm.

House turned back to Hudson, a subtle smirk flashing over his features. There was no way of hiding his satisfaction.

Hudson shrunk slightly, attempting to retain the last vestiges of his dignity. "I want a letter of recommendation," he finally insisted.

House inwardly scoffed at his gall, jabbing his cane pointedly in the air. "Seriously, were you not listening just now?"

Hudson opened and closed his mouth incredulously, clearly clueless as to how to handle the situation. Slowly, he turned. He was confronted head-on with Chase holding Brooklyn tightly in his arms, and shot her a deeply murderous glare before stalking through the glass doors, stiffly holding his gait.

As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Foreman let out a loud cheer, for once looking entirely impressed with House and not bothering to hide it. Chase was similarly stunned, smiling widely.

"_That_ was awesome," Foreman declared, touching Cameron again victoriously on the back.

Chase continued to grin, nodding his agreement. "Definitely."

House shrugged indifferently, but he found his gaze unwillingly drawn to Cameron standing in between them. A small, modest smile graced her features, and House found himself strangely pleased. So pleased, he momentarily allowed them their fun, standing back as they embraced her in celebration.

He had his team back.

Finally.

------------------------------


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** Succumb (16?)  
**Pairing:** House/Cameron**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

------------------------------

So. This was it.

Cameron strode slowly into the briefing room, scanning the adjoining office and allowing her shoulders to relax when she realised it was empty. She hesitated over the desk that had once been hers, noticing somewhat surprisingly that Chase had cleared his belongings to the side to make room for her. A small smile hovered over her features as she traced the smooth wood surface, before she shrugged out of her coat and hung it carefully on the rack.

It was a routine she had repeated automatically for nearly two years, but this time, she revelled in its odd familiarity. Her old and new selves intermingled with a sort of seamless ease, a feeling that finally assured her she had made the right decision. She knew being back at the hospital in another department would have felt strange, and she never would have allowed herself to properly belong.

She peered in at House's office, taking note of the jumble of unopened mail on the edge of his desk. She could see the three men had developed their own routine without her, disorganised as it might appear to her, and she wondered if she would disrupt it with her presence.

Brushing off her insecurities, she wandered silently into his office. She paused, taking in the room without House's domineering presence. It felt empty. Despite its outlandish possessions, it lacked personality without its cranky benefactor.

Finally, she allowed herself to examine his motivations behind asking her back. She knew reading anything into it would only cause her unnecessary disappointment, and she wasn't going to start this new chapter of her life by returning to old habits. Some things were going to have to change.

Cameron's slender fingers closed around his stack of letters, sliding them in a neat, ordered pile. She paused when something on his desk caught her attention, frowning slightly. Perched between his magic eight ball and his computer was a small brown teddy bear with a red ribbon fastened around its neck. She recognised it as one of the common toys from the hospital gift department, but she couldn't help the unexpected rush of surprise that went through her, and she stared at it absorbedly.

"I see you're picking up mail duty again. That's good. Cuddy claims I've missed some very important documentation recently."

House's low, rich voice cut into her silent musings, and she snapped around, blinking at him uncertainly. "Uh, yeah. I figured it would be okay to get back into some old routine."

He nodded, eyeing her silently. He placed his bag on the armchair near the door. "If that routine involves coffee making then I'm all for it. Hudson didn't understand the concept of no sugar."

She pursed her lips, gathering the mail in front of her to still her nervous movements. "Is he… upset? About what happened?"

House scoffed. "You mean did he complain to Cuddy? I get the feeling his face was too shiny and red. Even he knows the big boss doesn't admire snivelling." He sighed happily, as if some peaceful balance had been restored. "It's times like these I wish I installed those spy cameras in here. Buzz-kill Wilson thought that would be _intrusive_."

She smiled faintly, looking down as he stepped closer. He heaved a sigh, gaze flitting over the desk behind her. Apparently he sensed the source behind her sudden uncertainty. "Consider it a welcome back gift," he said at last, allowing their eyes to connect fleetingly. He shrugged awkwardly, looking exceedingly uncomfortable. "Or… something. A bribe, whatever. Stop Brooklyn from stealing my toys when she comes here."

Cameron swallowed, touched by the uncharacteristic gesture. "I… enrolled her in day-care, actually," she said hesitantly. "I won't have to bring her to work anymore."

House glanced at her, and she swore she saw a flicker of disappointment cross his face before he quickly covered it. "Oh."

"Thank you," she said softly, attempting to convey the depth of her sincerity. She wondered how things had suddenly become so awkward between them, when they usually had so much to say.

He nodded, looking away as if he couldn't handle the honesty in her gaze. "Sure."

They stood there in self-conscious silence for another moment, before House decided the conversation was over, and rounded her for his chair. She took this as her cue to leave. She gathered up the letters and the gift, fingers briefly caressing the soft fur, sparing a brief glance back at him before striding through the adjacent door and returning to her desk.

The melodramatic sounds of General Hospital filled her ears as she brewed the coffee and sat down to sort through the mail, and she realised rather sadly that things definitely weren't the same. Not at all.

--------------------------------

Foreman and Chase were slightly more enthusiastic to have her back, and were pleasant with House for all of two seconds, before he said something caustic and they returned to their bitter version of civility.

Cameron found herself alone at lunchtime, as Foreman had to follow up on some lab work on their patient, and Chase was performing a biopsy.

A tray landing on her table caused her to glance up, and she was confronted with Wilson's friendly face gazing down at her. "So. I hear a congratulations are in order."

She smiled slightly, inching her tray to the side to make room for him. She wondered if he was here to play mediator, and if he ever tired of having to make peace for House. "I guess so."

"It's good to have you back," he said, and she knew he meant it. Inwardly, she marvelled at the contrast between him and his best friend. It amazed her that someone as upfront as Wilson was so close with House sometimes.

"Thank you."

He took a sip from his coffee, eyeing her thoughtfully. Apparently he wasn't there to bridge any gaps, or whatever he might perceive was wrong. "So. Chase and Foreman take you out to celebrate yet?"

She smiled absently. "They're taking me out tomorrow, or so they tell me. I guess I'll just have to arrange a babysitter."

Wilson pursed his lips, tracing the condensation on the table. His earnest features were twisted in a frown. "You know… my wife is really good with kids. If I mentioned it to her, she would probably be happy to watch Brooklyn for the night."

Cameron was surprised and touched by the offer. She always got the impression Wilson preferred to keep his home life exclusively separate from his work life. Of the PPTH doctors she knew, only House and Cuddy had met the elusive Julie Wilson, and she had never been friendly enough with either to inquire about her.

"Are you sure she wouldn't… mind?" Cameron asked dubiously.

He shrugged dismissively. "Not at all. Hey, if she sees that I actually know people who have children, she might think I'm sincere about wanting them."

She lifted an eyebrow, catching onto the undercurrent of bitterness in his tone. He frowned apologetically. "Uh, sorry. That's probably too much information."

It occurred to her that they had a kinship here of sorts; that Wilson probably wouldn't be able to talk about this with anyone else.

"Your wife… wants you to start a family?" she asked cautiously.

He shrugged vaguely. "It might have come up once or twice."

She suspected it might have come up more than that, but didn't say so.

Wilson frowned, glancing up at her cautiously as he considered his next words. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

She shrugged, inwardly bracing herself. It was strange, but she actually trusted Wilson a lot more than Foreman and Chase, despite the fact that they were her peers. Wilson understood her relationship with House, and he didn't constantly throw it in her face or mock her with it. He also understood House's deeper flaws and sympathised with her for different reasons than others did. He was, for all intents and purposes, a neutral work colleague. Their conversations could always be a little more direct, and she knew anything they shared would be in confidence.

"Did you… Did you ever think it would have been better to have a partner raising Brooklyn? That it would make things easier?"

She smiled, slightly relieved by the harmlessness of his question. "Sure. A lot of things would have been easier with another person. You're lucky you have that."

Wilson nodded. "I know this is a baseless question, but… did you ever wonder what would have happened had you stayed here?"

Cameron glanced down at her fork, prodding neglectfully at her salad. "I couldn't stay here", she said quietly. "I was… I didn't like the person I was becoming here."

Wilson frowned, genuinely curious by her admission. "So why come back?"

"Because… things are different now. I'm different. And I realised you can't always run away from your problems."

A small smile graced Wilson's features, and he sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair. "For what it's worth… I think he's an idiot."

Cameron's gaze slid up to his, and she had difficulty shielding her surprise. Wilson just shrugged. "He told me what happened. Or… vaguely referred to it, anyway."

Cameron shifted uncomfortably. "Whatever he said…. it was my fault, not his."

"And now he's pushing you away, right? Look, Cameron… House can't look at the bigger picture. He sees things in relation to how they affect him, and he shuts down because he can't handle dealing with his emotions. He's using what happened as an excuse to ignore whatever it is that's going on between the two of you. It's easier for him that way."

Cameron frowned. "So what are you suggesting?"

"I'm just saying… you have to understand that he's insecure. Most people wouldn't realise it's there behind all that brash and sarcasm."

Cameron smiled humourlessly, placing her fork over her unfinished meal. "You really think I haven't noticed that by now?"

He laughed softly. "Sorry. I guess I forget that you know him better than most people do around here. He… opens up to you. Not a lot, but you're closer than most. I know you have bigger priorities now, but… just keep that in mind, okay?"

He rose to his feet, dragging his tray with him. "I'll talk to Julie. Just let me know what time you want to bring Brooklyn around."

She nodded wordlessly, watching him as he crossed the cafeteria and disappeared in the crowd. His words struck a chord in her, and she sat in quiet contemplation, wondering exactly how she was supposed to follow his advice.

----------------------------


	17. Chapter 17

**Title:** Succumb (17?)  
**Pairing:** House/Cameron**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**---------------------**

For the first time in years, Cameron actually felt like she was enjoying herself, and she didn't have to feel guilty about it.

She knew for her age she had experienced more turmoil than most people did in a lifetime, and it was nice to temporarily forget all of that, to lose herself in the moment and the superficial atmosphere around her.

Chase had uncovered some kind of half-bar, half-club, one that catered to the post-college crowd enough that they didn't feel out of place. She even recognized several faces from the hospital, and felt a permanent smile split her features as she danced with Foreman and Chase, and accepted their drink offers without too much protest. She let the appreciative glances boost her ego instead of dwelling on the consequences, and even let several guys hit on her before gently turning them down.

She was a little tipsy when the evening drew to a close, and allowed Foreman to drive her to Wilson's, assuring him that the oncologist could drive her and Brooklyn home. She felt like she had reasserted her position in the team, not merely as a doctor, but in their personal relationships as well. It was a relief to feel _included_ again. To belong without trying to.

She waved to Foreman as he pulled out of Wilson's driveway, striding up to his front porch with a faint smile on her face.

The Wilsons owned a house in a pretty residential suburb in outer Princeton, and the tightly trimmed lawns and flawlessly ordered front yards only reaffirmed her view of Wilson as the epitome of stability. She brushed her long, loose hair out of her face, straightening her leather jacket as she heard shuffling footsteps.

"Hey," she greeted Wilson pleasantly, answering the door.

He smiled, but it appeared a little forced and she wondered what had changed in the last few hours. She couldn't imagine Brooklyn being that difficult. "Cameron, hey. Uh, come on in."

She followed him inside, and he closed the door behind her, hovering uncomfortably. She frowned at him. "Was Brooklyn… _okay_? Did she behave?"

"Oh, yeah, she was fine. I'm fairly sure Julie wants to adopt her now."

She smiled, relaxing a little at his amiable tone. Until they rounded the corner for the living room.

House was sprawled on the sofa with the familiarity of someone intimately acquainted with the room. He lifted his eyes impassively from the television as she entered, and acknowledged her vaguely. "Cameron."

Cameron spared a disbelieving glance at Wilson, who shrugged back at her awkwardly. Judging by his evasive behaviour, this obviously hadn't been pre-planned. Just as well. She was sure she would never have accepted any friendly offers from the oncologist again otherwise.

"Uh, Julie put Brooklyn down in the guest room," he offered haltingly. "She fell asleep in front of the TV."

"Julie wouldn't even let me watch Xena while she was here," House piped up indifferently. "Women."

"I'm sure Allison wouldn't have appreciated it," Julie's soft, cultured voice sounded behind her.

She turned to find the blonde smiling at her lightly. She was uncertain how she felt about Julie Wilson. She was extremely pretty, and possessed a brisk manner that shifted to softness with startling ease. She could see what might have attracted Wilson to her, but she could also see that the rumours regarding their rocky marriage were well founded. They seemed uncomfortable, like the excitement of their courtship had passed and domesticity didn't suit them. She sensed Julie was extremely career driven and wondered if motherhood was really a desire, or a requirement.

Cameron didn't respond, sensing the undercurrent of hostility and resignation between House and Julie. They obviously tolerated each other, and seemed to have developed a sort of forced civility she didn't think she had seen him attempt with anyone else. If it was purely for Wilson's benefit, she had a newfound respect for their friendship.

"She went to sleep about an hour ago," Julie explained. "Do you want me to go and get her?"

"Thank you," Cameron agreed softly.

Julie nodded, disappearing gracefully down the hall. Cameron glanced at Wilson again, who gestured uneasily at the sofa. She sighed, carefully taking the single armchair flanking the couch. House barely looked at her, attention seemingly riveted to the baseball game playing out on the TV. She wondered exactly how long he had been there.

Wilson heaved a deep sigh himself, sensing there was nothing he could do to break the tense silence. He slumped on the sofa beside House, effectively placing himself between them.

"So, did you have a good time?" he inquired, shifting his eyes over her rather than the television.

Cameron smiled slightly, allowing herself to distractedly scan the room as the muted light flickered over it. Perfect blue and white furniture, cream walls and priceless ornaments arranged with precision and care. Not exactly child friendly.

"I did. I don't get to go out much anymore. Chase picked a good place. I think he mentioned an old girlfriend introduced him to it. There were a lot of people from the hospital there."

"Oh, really?" he said politely. "Where was it?"

"Do you really need to scour for new pick-up spots, Jimmy?" House remarked casually beside him. "I thought you knew all the good ones already."

Wilson scowled, shooting him a warning look. Cameron was surprised he would allude to Wilson's infidelities with Julie so close by. Though she was uncertain as to the accuracy behind them, there was no denying Wilson had developed a certain reputation at PPTH.

"Uh, Alchemist and Barrister," she answered warily. "It's off Witherspoon Street."

Before House could offer another comment on the matter, Julie re-emerged from the dim hallway, carrying a sleeping Brooklyn in her arms. "I'm sorry she's so tired," she said apologetically. She shot House a pointed look, fuelled by exasperation. "Greg kept her awake half the night with my nephew's 'Operation' set."

Cameron's gaze ticked over in House's direction. So he obviously hadn't been watching TV all evening, and had spent most of it playing with Brooklyn – obviously to Julie's chagrin. Wilson's head was conveniently blocking his face, but she couldn't help the surprise that coloured her features. "Oh, uh well, that's okay. It just means she'll sleep in tomorrow."

She rose to her feet, and Wilson stood up too, once again uncertain as to his position between his best friend and the woman he was undoubtably still interested in. "Do you need a ride home? I saw Foreman drop you off."

She nodded gratefully, caught dwelling on House's continually unexplainable behaviour. "Uh, yeah. If it's not too much trouble."

House peeled his eyes away from the television, finally making himself known to the conversation. "I can take her," he announced unexpectedly, swivelling his cane in front of him and boosting himself to his feet. Wilson cocked an eyebrow at him, and Julie frowned slightly. House pretended not to notice. "I should get going anyway."

Cameron accepted Brooklyn mutely from Julie's arms, cradling her to her chest before glancing at House tentatively. "Uh, thanks."

He shrugged, retrieving his jacket from the coat rack near the door.

"Thank you so much for watching Brooklyn tonight," Cameron said earnestly, turning to Wilson's wife. "I really appreciate it."

"Oh, she was no trouble at all," Julie replied, offering her another perfect smile. "We'd be happy to watch her again, wouldn't we, James?"

Wilson blinked, nodding quickly. "Uh, o-of course," he stammered. Cameron didn't know whether to be dismayed or amused by his subservience to the woman.

He turned his attention to House, who was waiting impatiently at Cameron's side, obviously eager to leave their company. "Drive carefully," he cautioned flatly, an unmistakably pointed look carrying the statement.

Julie narrowed her eyes as a thought occurred to her. "And _please_ don't run over my roses again, House."

House rolled his eyes. "Oh, that was an accident," he protested dryly, carelessly holding the door open for Cameron. "I thought one of them was your ugly garden knome. They're bad Feng Shui, you know. I was doing you a favour."

Julie scowled at him. Wilson cleared his throat. "Goodnight."

The door closed abruptly behind them, probably to avoid a last minute barb on House's behalf. Cameron lifted a doubtful eyebrow at House, amazed by their unusual dynamic, before following him slowly down the front path.

"Are you… _always_ like that with her?"

He scoffed, stepping pointedly over Julie's garden on his way to his parked Corvette. She was surprised she had missed it before, cloaked by the overhanging oak trees next door. "She thinks I'm a bad influence on her impressionable little Jimmy."

She had to smile, shifting Brooklyn's weight against her hip. His presence had caught her off guard, and the familiar awkwardness had settled in the air between them. Despite asking her back to work, their conversations had remained stilted and uncomfortable, and she was surprised he was willingly offering to spend more than five minutes alone with her.

"So. What did you think?"

She glanced at him, shivering as the crisp night air cut through the neck of her blouse. Brooklyn's tiny frame warmed her slightly, and she clung to her with extra vigour. "Of Julie?"

"Well, the elusive Wilson is a hard one to pin down, but..."

Cameron sighed deeply. "She was… nice," she offered concisely.

House spared a backward glance at her, retrieving his keys from his pocket. "Of course you would say that," he said condescendingly.

Cameron frowned. "Fine. She was a little… shallow," she admitted reluctantly. "Not really the person I imagined Wilson to be married to."

House smirked, highly satisfied by his ability to manipulate her. "Was that a judgemental comment, Dr. Cameron? I think I need to record this moment."

She rolled her eyes, finding herself particularly annoyed with his scorn. Probably because she hadn't expected to have to face it until Monday. "I judge you all the time," she snapped curtly.

He scoffed in agreement. "Well, I can't argue with that."

They came to a halt in front of his car, and she stared up at him uncomfortably. "Look, I already told you I was sorry about the other night."

He blinked at her with exaggerated slowness. "_Right_. Are we having the same conversation here? I could have sworn we were just criticising Wilson's marital choices…"

Cameron shifted. "Are you just going to pretend that it never happened?"

"Are you really sure you want to have this conversation over Julie Wilson's rose patch?" House retorted.

Cameron relented, looking away. Cool silence enveloped them. "Can we put Brooklyn in the back seat?" she finally asked quietly. "She's cold."

House glanced at her daughter, expression softening slightly before he turned towards the car. He unlocked the driver's side, frowning as he glanced in at the back seat. The Corvette was a two-door car, and access was going to be difficult. "You're probably going to have to climb back there," he advised.

Cameron frowned at him uncomprehendingly, and he inwardly sighed. Why did she always have to make things so difficult?

"Why?"

He gestured pointedly. "Well, unless your arms have rubber band elasticity you're gonna have trouble putting her back there."

Cameron continued to frown at him, eyeing his car uncertainly. He knew he was a jerk, but did she really think he was going to shove her in headfirst or something?

Finally, she sighed, shifting forward. "Fine. Uh…"

She glanced down at Brooklyn, then at him. House dramatically rolled his eyes, tossing his cane over the front seat before he held out his arms. "Gimme."

Brooklyn's diminutive form was as limp as a rag doll, and Cameron was forced to brush up against him in order to pass her over. The warm softness of her frame briefly enveloped him, assailing him with her sweet fragrance, mingled faintly with the bar smells of smoke and alcohol. Her wide green eyes drifted up to his for a split moment, and he swallowed at their familiar intense pull. As if she sensed it too, she stepped back again, and he blinked, fixing his attention firmly down on Brooklyn.

She nestled against him in sleep almost immediately, and he ignored the faint, constant pain coursing down his leg. There was something even he could admit he enjoyed, in the soft, rare closeness of a child. _Cameron's_ child. Her added weight barely affected the pain in his leg, but standing without his cane always hurt a little bit more, and he carried her carefully on one side.

Cameron slid the front seat forward to climb in the back, and she flicked her mane of brown hair over one shoulder before turning to face him expectantly. It was hard not to notice that she wore a little extra make-up than normal, and beneath her casual leather jacket she wore a tight fitting red blouse that accentuated her slender figure. She was far more beautiful than any woman in their pretentious profession deserved to be.

He lifted his calloused palm to cradle the back of Brooklyn's head as he inched forward, wincing as his leg brushed the front seat. With a little manoeuvring, he managed to pass her to Cameron, and their hands brushed one more time before he released her.

He ran a hand over his beard, looking out at Wilson's front yard as Cameron tenderly placed Brooklyn down on the back seat. An odd feeling went through him at the utter domesticity of the act. The Corvette was a magnetic red symbol of his bachelordom if there ever was one, yet Cameron and Brooklyn had managed to destroy that in one moment. What annoyed him the most was that he didn't _mind_.

Cameron reached up to her shoulders to remove her jacket, and he could guess what kind of flimsy crap she had on underneath. To spare her the cold, or maybe just his own sanity, he shrugged off his jacket and briskly held it back to her. "Here."

Cameron blinked at him, surprised, and he had to look away again to avoid her gratitude. As if sensing his discomfort, she didn't mention it, folding the suede material and placing it gently under Brooklyn's head, before climbing back into the front seat.

He drew in another sigh, sliding into the driver's seat and shutting the door behind him. The top was up and the space between them felt even more constrained, and he shrugged off the intimacy of the moment before starting the ignition, and steering out into the street.

It was going to be a long night.

----------------------


	18. Chapter 18

**Title:** Succumb (18?)  
**Pairing:** House/Cameron**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**----------------------------**

Some brief directions from Cameron on the route to her new apartment, and then the silence in the car was overpowering— strained with an undercurrent of their usual, long-running tension.

House spared her a brief glance in the corner of his eye as they passed under a bright streetlight, and it cast a fleeting glow over her features. She had her attention riveted out the side window; features utterly blank. He wondered how long it had taken her to perfect this form of silent treatment. She had crafted her patience considerably, and it was her display of self-control that finally caused him to irritably break their unspoken standoff.

"You're still going to want to talk, aren't you?" he asked abruptly, switching down a gear as they neared a set of traffic lights.

Cameron finally looked at him, lifting an eyebrow impassively at his tone. "If you don't want to, I'm not going to make you," she said coolly. "It wouldn't be a very productive conversation."

He rolled his eyes. She had certainly kicked up her knack for coldness as well. "Is this reverse psychology, Cameron?" he asked derisively. "That's a pretty amateur tactic, even for you."

"I don't know. It's working, isn't it?"

God, the woman was infuriating. He shot her a dirty look, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the lights to turn green. "Is Brooklyn going to inherit this manipulative streak? I'm worried for the little boys of her future."

Cameron smirked. "Why can't you just admit it? You want to talk about this."

"Sure. Right after a Vicodin strike and twelve straight hours of Clinic Duty."

Cameron sighed deeply, voice laced with exhaustion. "Don't you ever get tired of trying this hard, House?"

He frowned at her; forced to draw his attention to the road again as the cars in front of them surged forward. "You feel guilty," he said flatly. "You need me to validate your guilt so you feel better. Fine. It was a kiss. One you started, I might add. As much as it cuts me up inside, these things have happened before, and I'm fairly sure we're no longer in the fifth grade. You are absolved."

Cameron folded her arms tightly over her chest. Apparently his response hadn't satisfied her. What a surprise. "Then why won't you talk to me anymore?" she demanded. "Why are things like _this_ again?"

House rolled his eyes, exasperated by her prodding. "I asked you to come back. What do you want? Me to be your valentine?" He jeered humourlessly. "Oh, I know. Dinner."

Cameron clenched her jaw, reacting like he had slapped her. She turned her head, stiffness coiling through her small frame. "Screw you, House," she said quietly.

House sighed, staring darkly at the road ahead. He knew that had been out of line. Why people thought that was such an unusual occurrence, he would never know.

"Look," he said gruffly. "In case you haven't noticed, I am not good at relationships. I'm an arrogant jerk, and I'm only going to make you even more miserable than you already are."

Cameron was silent, and looked at him slowly. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe people stay around you for a reason?"

He briefly met her gaze, perplexed by the sudden clipped assurance behind her soft tone. Cameron refused to be swayed, and went on swiftly. "Wilson and Cuddy have been trying to protect your job for the last few weeks, and they have no reason to do it. You're rude. You scare patients. Your reputation isn't always enough, and you know it. You try so hard to convince the world that you're a bad person; you're starting to think it's true. But they see something in you worth saving— and so do I."

House was taken aback by the utter conviction in her voice. It reminded him of her unwavering sincerity when she told him she was leaving, and that she liked him because he did 'what was right'.

He didn't know whether she was senselessly deluded, or if she just really believed that it was true. Either way, he wasn't sure how to answer, and didn't, steering the rest of the way to her home in silence.

-------------------------------------------

House's silence stung, but it wasn't unexpected. It was his standard reaction to their more emotional confrontations. The only difference this time was that he had no way of escaping.

Cameron leant back in her seat in silence, allowing the stress to loosen from her shoulders as her apartment building came into view. House manoeuvred into a tight parking space near her nondescript SUV, and killed the engine swiftly.

The newfound stillness was almost deafening.

She glanced back at Brooklyn, sprawled on her side, tiny mouth open slightly. She was impossibly innocent and vulnerable in sleep, and Cameron was glad their argument appeared to have washed over her. She hated that her focus on House was so single-minded it made her forget everything else, including her responsibility to her daughter.

She looked at House, who was fixated intently on the brick wall in front of them.

"Look, do you… want to come up for a while?"

Why she asked it, she would never know. It just felt like their conversation was unfinished, and she was tired of leaving things so incomplete between them. If she was to move on, one way or another, she needed things to be resolved between them.

House glanced at her, and for once she saw the weariness in his startling blue eyes. He sighed deeply, and nodded slowly. It was like all of the fight had been drained out of him. "Yeah. Sure."

Between them, they managed to get Brooklyn out of the car and up to her apartment. She had been leasing it temporarily for her stay and the landlord had agreed to extend it after she discovered she was staying more permanently. It was slightly bigger than her last one, though she was still on a reasonably tight budget and it wasn't her ideal place to raise a child.

She saw House briefly scrutinize their surroundings as they strode inside, and she nodded through the living room. "I'm just going to put her to bed."

He nodded mutely, and she left him in the kitchen, reflecting on the utter absurdity her situation would have been a few short years ago.

It took her longer than she expected to get Brooklyn ready for bed when the little girl woke up, and she was forced to sit with her until she dozed off again. She took the opportunity to stall, gazing down at her daughter's soft, angelic features. Brooklyn was her world, and though her old self was eager to push House into some form of a relationship, her newer, mature self had other priorities to consider. House did not come with a guarantee. And though that might have suited her fine three years ago, it certainly didn't now.

She slipped into her room to change into a sweatshirt, before striding slowly back out into the living area.

House sat on her sofa, cane resting idly by his side. He looked oddly comfortable where he was. His presence immediately commandeered a room, no matter where he was. He frowned intently down at a picture sandwiched between his fingers on his lap. Her footsteps were soundless on the carpet, and she recognised which one it was as she neared.

"That's my brother," she said quietly, wondering what he was thinking about.

He glanced up; nodding at her slowly and placing it back on the coffee table. The image she had long since memorized came into her view; her older brother on one of his rare visits, with a wide grin on his face and a slightly younger Brooklyn nursed on his knee. "You've got the same cheekbones," House replied vaguely.

"Oh."

She sat down on the sofa beside him, leaning back against the armrest so that she was facing him and there was still some distance between them. She tucked her feet up under her. Soft toys and building blocks littered the floor around them, and the blatant childlike presence was a harsh reminder of their newfound differences.

House glanced at her, resting one arm on the side of the sofa. He looked faintly amused, easily deciphering her expression. "You were worried I thought he was her father."

She looked down at her feet, features crinkling in a frown. "You never asked about him."

It was remarkable in itself, when usually he was so intent on knowing every intricate detail about everyone. That he had not asked had not escaped her attention.

House shrugged, as if he hadn't even considered it. "Maybe I didn't want to know."

Cameron lifted her eyes, studying him thoughtfully. "I worked with him," she said, after a moment. "In Boston. We were never involved; it was more of a one-time thing. At least that's what he wanted it to be."

House frowned at her tiredly. "You really need to stop trusting people. You do know that, right?"

She let the inner concern in his tone block out his irritation. "He left before I found out about it," she continued calmly. "I never tried to find him."

"Good to know," House said darkly, scowling at something on her mantelpiece. "He doesn't exactly sound like Daddy material."

She was silent, studying a loose thread in her socks. Their mutual resolve to avoid each other's eyes was almost comical.

"Who helped you?" he asked, sounding wary.

Cameron tucked her hair behind her ears, allowing herself to finally look at him. Something in his gruff tone made her curious. He was eyeing her with an unusual amount of intensity, for once not avoiding her gaze. "No one," she answered softly. "I don't exactly have the greatest relationship with my parents, and they're in Illinios. My brother and sister are both in California. I didn't know anyone else." She shrugged. It was yet another upward struggle in her life, and it was one she had handled. "I managed just fine."

House slowly shook his head, sighing deeply. "You could have come back, you know."

She gave him a disbelieving look. "You're kidding, right?"

He scowled impatiently. "Okay, so Foreman and Chase would have helped you. You would have had a job. And Cuddy's oddly nurturing, when she wants to be."

She smiled sadly. "That argument sounds pretty hollow, even to me."

House rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Who really believes Cuddy can be nurturing?"

She tilted her head thoughtfully, allowing the silence to extend a little before she spoke. "You missed her, didn't you?"

House lifted an eyebrow, eyeing her sceptically. "Cuddy?"

She knew he was being intentionally dumb. She wondered if he had known Wilson and Julie were babysitting Brooklyn when he went over there. "Brooklyn."

She still found it difficult to understand his attachment to her daughter. It filled her with warmth when she realised they shared that affection. It was… nice. To see him care for someone, without feeling ashamed to show it.

He gave her a weary look, as if he sensed what she was thinking. "I haven't seen her for two days, Cameron. That does not constitute nostalgia."

She smirked, somewhat confident in her knowledge. "You know, if she was at the hospital any more, I would have ruined your image as a misanthropic bastard."

"Well, lucky you shipped her off to day-care just in time then."

She watched him carefully, crossing her legs in an unconsciously childlike manner. Again she detected a faint hint of bitterness in his tone. She licked her lips, linking her hands over her knee. "If you want… I can bring her by," she suggested softly, leaning forward slightly. "To visit, sometimes."

He shrugged nonchalantly, but she could tell the idea appealed to him more than he wanted it to. "Hey, if you want her to hang with the naughty kids, that's your prerogative. Don't blame me when you have to start cutting her allowance."

She smiled, shaking her head at his reticence. His fingers flexed out over his cane, but he made no move to stand. "I should go."

"Right."

He sighed, glancing at her for a moment, before he rose to his feet. She also stood, unconsciously blocking him from the door.

Without her heels she was considerably shorter than he was, and she glanced up at him uncertainly. He looked down at her, failing to renew the distance between them.

A familiar tick twitched in his jaw, something she recognised as a signal of his frustration and indecision. Staring at her, he slowly reached forward, losing some inner battle. His rough fingers brushed against the smooth skin of her cheek, and she was startled by the sensation.

There was conflict in his blue eyes, and they captured her with a mixture of genuine confusion and concern. "You know I'm going to hurt you," he said lowly.

Cameron continued to stare up at him, affected by his apprehension. She felt her arm lifting of its own accord, and ran her thumb slowly over his jaw, enjoying the coarse sensation of his stubble. She was oddly calmed by the gesture, and had an innate need to reassure him. "In case you haven't noticed," she whispered gently. "That probably goes both ways."

He swallowed, unable to disagree with her. He continued to stare at her, even as he bent forward and drew her towards him, pressing his lips softly over hers.

Her heart contracted at the contact, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe.

The kiss was neither frantic nor desperate; a sharp contrast to their first time. Cameron was taken aback by the veracity behind his touch. He was infinitely gentle, exploring her like she was made of glass or something equally fragile. Like he treasured her.

She slid her hands over the front of his shirt, allowing herself to enjoy the warmth and smoothness of the cotton. His cool fingers tangled in her hair, skimming her scalp, softly stroking her cheek.

She opened her mouth to allow him better access, caressing his lips gently with her own. She felt him relenting to her with a sort of desperate trust and need. She knew he was insecure. It was something her younger self had failed to grasp, but she knew now he guarded his heart out of caution, not coldness.

House deflated faintly against her, and she could pinpoint the exact moment he gave into her. She knew, because it was the exact moment she felt herself giving into him.

----------------------------


	19. Chapter 19

**Title:** Succumb (19?)  
**Pairing:** House/Cameron**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

---------------------------

Cameron looked soft and angelic in sleep, a far cry from the emotionally battered woman the years had moulded her into.

House observed her quietly, cushioned against her silky sheets, ignoring the dull throbbing in his leg. Her dark hair was spread out on the pillow around her pale features, and her slender fingers were extended slightly on the mattress between them, curled inward with an almost childlike innocence.

He still found it difficult to believe that she had a child of her own. She was still so young to him in many ways, and still seemed so untouched by everything that occurred around her. The 'mother' label didn't feel like it applied to her; just like the 'widow' and 'martyr' labels he had given her before. Labels comforted him, yet they continually failed to adequately sum up Cameron.

She had changed so much since he last saw her, and part of him was envious he had been unable to witness that inward growth and development. He could admit he had once craved the credit of crafting her into the brilliant doctor he knew she could be. He had never really considered how her personal changes would affect his relationship with her as well.

He sighed, shifting onto his side, taking the opportunity to openly study her in sleep. She was beautiful, and yet she was so much more than that. He guessed she had probably suffered lifelong difficulty getting people to see that.

Cameron drew in a slight breath, squinting at him in her half-asleep state as she stirred. "Are you awake?" she murmured huskily.

He took a moment to answer, glancing at her quietly. "Yeah."

Her mouth quirked slightly, but she kept her eyes closed. He had slept with women before, had relationships with women before; but none of them had ever felt quite this intimate, this deep. He realised he had the power to break her, just as she had the power to break him.

"This is weird, isn't it?"

He had to smile, amused by her sleepy observation. It was a simplistic echo of his own darker thoughts. "Well I don't know about you, but weird could be interpreted as very insulting."

"It's a good thing," she whispered, lifting her fingers and brushing lightly against his cheek. It amazed him how trustingly she touched him, how effortlessly she reassured him.

His blue eyes searched her face as she closed her eyes again, and he smiled faintly. "Yeah," he agreed softly.

He still couldn't quite believe they had done this. He had himself so convinced anything with her was out of the question, but the temptation of her presence was so very very strong. He supposed it was only inevitable that he would yield.

She drifted off again, and he allowed himself to stroke a stray strand of hair out of her face. He glanced at the window, noting that slivers of morning light were straining to get through the blinds. It was still early. He located her bedside clock, which read 6:30am. While he was content to lie there and study Cameron for a while, he knew the longer he was awake the more his leg would ache.

He carefully slid off the bed, retrieving his clothes from the floor. His Vicodin rattled in his jacket pocket, and he extracted it, grasping his cane and limping out into the hall. His mouth was dry from sleep, and he went behind Cameron's kitchen counter, shuffling around for a glass and filling it with water, before swallowing the much-needed painkillers.

He glanced around Cameron's dimly lit apartment as he leant against the counter, inwardly estimating how long it would take the medication to kick in. There were a few minute cracks in the ceiling, and he crinkled his nose, wondering exactly how structurally sound the place really was. It wasn't exactly roomy, either. He would have to lecture Cameron about that later.

He was about to move, and was surprised when he felt the faint vibration of his cell phone in his pocket. He lifted a disbelieving eyebrow, tugging it out and flipping it swiftly to his ear. "What?" he barked irritably. Who the hell was calling him this early on a Saturday morning?

"Good morning to you too," Wilson said calmly. "So, how did it go?"

House squinted at the clock; just to be sure his eyes hadn't been deceiving him. No. It really was a quarter to seven in the morning. Only Wilson and his obsessive tennis-playing wife would be up at this hour. "'How did it go'?" he repeated dubiously. "Don't you think I would be more up for conversation in a few hours? Like say midday?"

"You have your morning dosage around this time. I figured I would catch you."

House tapped his thumb against the kitchen counter, rolling his eyes skyward. "I don't know who should be more scared that you know that— me, or your wife."

He could practically see Wilson scowling irritably on the other end of the line. "Come on, cough it up. What happened?"

"You're practically squealing. Hilary Duff called, she wants her personality back."

Wilson scoffed. "You know who Hilary Duff is?"

"That is completely besides the point."

"Sure it is," Wilson retorted. "So, have we done our evasive routine long enough yet?"

House sighed. "Worried I'm going to get you into trouble, Jimmy?"

Wilson was quick to retort. "Yes, actually, I am. Cameron's going to make me feel guilty, which is bad enough— but if she gets too uncomfortable to ask us to baby-sit again, then Julie is going to know something is going on, which will inevitably become _my_ fault."

House sneered. "I always knew you were the true narcissist of this friendship."

"Please tell me the two of you didn't get into another argument. The atmosphere at the hospital is tense enough as it is."

"Know what?" House said flatly. "I think I feel my Vicodin kicking in. Which means it's time to go back to my beddy-by. Not even the cool cartoons are worth being up this early. That's why God invented a TiVo."

He clicked the phone closed before Wilson could protest. He didn't know why, but he was unwilling to let Wilson know what had happened. It was far too recent and precarious to tell anyone about it – even him.

He knew how Cameron was going to act after this. She was going to want solid answers, confirmation that this was a lasting commitment. He wasn't sure if he could offer her that. Like Wilson said, reassurances weren't exactly his strong suit. He was overcome by the faint urge to leave before things became even more complicated. But he knew he couldn't do that. He resisted hurting Cameron when he knew she had put so much on the line here. And a large part of him was curious to see exactly where this was headed.

He turned away from the counter, slipping his cell phone in the pocket of his blazer, and blinked in surprise when he realised Brooklyn stood below him, gazing up at him curiously.

"Hwo," she garbled.

He wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a greeting, or his name, and he rolled his eyes. There was almost a glimmer of knowledge in her dark brown eyes, and he shifted uneasily, staring down at her warily. "Of course, toddlers are up at this hour. They don't understand the concept of TiVo."

She grinned at him, clad in ridiculously bright red pyjamas. Apparently all he had to do was speak to restore her trust.

He glanced at the hall, unable to see Cameron's bedroom from where he stood. He reminded himself that she had been out with Foreman and Chase the night before, and she was probably exhausted.

He strode towards the living room sofa, scanning the room for the remote. Brooklyn scampered after him, struggling to climb onto the couch. He long sufferingly lifted her up, flipping on the television and idly searching for something to entertain them. He landed on an old Warner Brother's cartoon, and smirked in satisfaction, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Brooklyn grinned wider, eyes lighting on the television, and he wondered if Cameron even let her watch morning cartoons.

Someone was definitely going to have to fix that.

--------------------------

The downy sheets tickled her cheek as Cameron languidly opened her eyes, blinking momentarily to adjust to the bright light streaming through the window.

She frowned, wondering why her blinds were open when she usually left them closed. She felt strangely uplifted, and her mild headache from the alcohol she had consumed the night before didn't bother her as much as it usually would have. It took her sluggish mind a long time to comprehend the reason behind her mood.

_House. _

She rolled on her back, and felt an unwilling jolt in her stomach when her skin came into contact with the cold, empty space beside her. Sitting upright, she glanced around the room, as if it would somehow offer her answers. Nothing was out of place; nothing indicated that he had been anything but a phantom presence in her bed the night before.

Her smile was short-lived, and she glanced at her bedside clock. 9:30am. Brooklyn had let her sleep in far longer than she normally did on a Saturday morning. She threw aside the duvet, climbing to her feet and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

She refused to jump to any conclusions. She grasped the robe she kept at her bedside, running her fingers vaguely through her hair. The fact that he had seemingly abandoned her didn't come as much of a surprise, but the sharp pang of hurt she felt waking up and finding him gone was unavoidable.

She felt like they had established some kind of connection the night before and she didn't think he would leave her after that.

She frowned when the distant sounds of voices filled her ears, and padded slowly across the carpet, opening the door with a soundless click.

She couldn't see the living room from the hall, but as she drew closer the unmistakable sounds of cartoon music bounced back at her. Bright morning light filtered through the room, casting shadows over the narrow passage. She tugged on her robe a little more tightly as she passed over them, striding uncertainly into the living room.

House was clad in his rumpled clothes from the night before, slouched on her sofa. Beside him in her pyjamas was Brooklyn, who shot him a brief grin as she swivelled her head between him and an old roadrunner cartoon playing out on the TV. Her adoration was obvious.

And Cameron realised it wasn't only her own heart she was guarding any more.

House turned his head, finally noticing her staring soundlessly in the doorway. He lifted an eyebrow, looking vaguely amused by her stunned expression. "Good morning, Sunshine," he drawled slowly. "Do something to tire yourself out last night?"

She shot him a weary look, inwardly amazed by his calm exterior. She hesitantly strode into the room, stopping in front of Brooklyn and running a hand gently over her soft hair before placing a kiss on her head. It was a clear, unconscious sign of her protectiveness, and it calmed her slightly.

She glanced at House, blinking quickly and rounding the sofa for the kitchen counter.

She went through the motions of preparing her morning coffee, moving at a particularly slow pace as her sluggish mind struggled to absorb her current situation.

He was… still here. He hadn't left. She had set herself up for disappointment and the reality was… surreal.

She drummed her fingers agitatedly on the Formica countertop. She finally turned, and came face to face with House standing directly behind her.

She swallowed up at him, again struck by the differences in their height. He was watching her intently, and his thoughts were, as always, entirely unreadable. "I'm starting to see the benefits of this," he said slowly. "Do I get any of that coffee?"

She nodded, hesitantly licking her lips. "Um, sure."

House tilted his head, studying her attentively. "Well gee, this certainty of yours must do wonders for guy's self-esteem. Luckily for both of us, I have a healthily sized ego."

She blinked, eyes widening timorously. "Sorry. I'm just…"

He shrugged, but he looked oddly understanding. "It's okay. I get it."

The fact that he didn't need to make an effort to understand made her remorse even more apparent. She watched him as he turned away, returning to the sofa and snatching the remote casually from Brooklyn's hands before she could damage the buttons.

She had no idea what the hell she was doing. Despite the fact that this was something she had wanted for _years_, she had had no realistic plans for their relationship when she had still been pursing him. _Now_… now she was content to just take things as they came. She knew neither of them was exactly ready to dive head-on into a long-term commitment.

Drawing in a deep sigh, she poured two mugs of coffee and returned to the couch, passing one to House and nursing the other in front of her as she settled on the empty space beside him.

As she subtly studied House, she could see the dents in his armour, the faint sighs that proved to her this an uncomfortable situation for him. She couldn't blame him. Her daughter was making their awkward morning after seem like a daily scene of domestic life, and it was… unsettling.

"Cameron."

She blinked, refocusing on House's face when she realised he was watching her. Brooklyn sat on his other side, mindless to their tension. She was normally their buffer, but there was no way she was going to help them get through this situation. None at all.

"Stop clenching," House said sternly.

She took another sip from her coffee, looking down at the faint steam rising from the liquid. "Sorry."

She dimly remembered waking up and saying something to him this morning, but she wasn't sure what it had been. That ease had gone. All she knew was that the cocoon of warmth from his body and her bed was a lingering sensation, one that made her skin buzz with anticipation at his nearness.

He sighed, leaning closer, brushing against her side so that they could talk without disrupting Brooklyn. She couldn't help the unconscious shiver that run through her. She was unused to his intimacy, and it left a faint ache deep inside her stomach. She swallowed slightly as his low voice rumbled by her ear.

"Okay. Get it out."

She twisted her head to look at him uncertainly. "What?"

House rolled his eyes. "Whatever you're thinking. The talking thing. Do it. Your window of opportunity is kind of small here. I'm all tolerant because of the coffee buzz and cartoon entertainment. You really know how to woo a guy."

She smiled wanly, tapping the edge of her mug. She was prepared to give him an out here. He wasn't acting like he wanted to leave, but he was a master at hiding his emotions. "I know we kind of rushed into this, after… last night. So I would understand if you just wanted to…"

House scowled heavily. "I'm going to chose not to address that," he grunted. "Next point of concern."

Cameron frowned, slightly perplexed by his swift dismissal. She shifted slightly. "Fine. What does this mean, House? We just… well—"

"It's okay to use the 'sex' word, Cameron," he said caustically. "I promise I won't blush."

Now she was the one who rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry if this is a little new to me."

"The sex thing?" he quipped. "Well that's just sad."

He sighed heavily at her exasperated expression, sparing a brief glance at Brooklyn who was still riveted to the television. Then he turned back to her, and she read a newfound softness in his blue eyes, one that filled her with unexpected warmth. "Look, I don't know about you, but I don't really have this thing planned out."

She nodded slowly, looking down again. "Right. I know."

"How about… we just see what happens?" he said carefully. She could tell he was having difficulty comforting her, but she also sensed an undercurrent of his own omnipresent uncertainty.

She couldn't believe how much he reminded her of a scared little boy. Leaning forward, she had the impulsive need to brush her lips gently over his. He glanced down at her in surprise, and she felt a smile quirk at her lips when she realised he would allow her to kiss him.

"Just for the record, coffee is as far as my domestic duties go," she murmured, keeping her gaze fixed intently on his. Anything she said to reassure him might sound forced or insincere in the moment, so she attempted to convey all of her certainty behind the strength of her gaze.

Sensing her intent, House briefly searched her eyes, nodding in satisfaction at whatever he found there. "Noted."

She smiled lightly, turning her attention quickly back to the TV to avoid splitting into a wide grin. If this morning got any more pleasant, she thought he might get up and bolt. Or… limp, anyway. Inwardly, she felt a deep rush of contentment, something she hadn't felt for… a long time.

Who was she kidding? They were already in way too deep.

She didn't want to come up for air anyway.

----------------------------------


	20. Chapter 20

**Title:** Succumb (20?)  
**Pairing:** House/Cameron**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

-------------------------------

"The Martians have landed."

Foreman blinked, lowering the morning paper to glance over at Chase dubiously. "Excuse me?"

The Australian stared back at him disbelievingly as he entered the briefing room, drawing to a halt in front of the whiteboard. "The Martians have landed," he repeated. "That's the only explanation I can come up with. House just _smiled_ at me. Not that arrogant 'I've got something on you' smile I usually get, or that evil one that means he's about to insult me."

Foreman lifted an eyebrow. "Huh. How long did it last?"

"About two seconds. Then he turned around and made the new nurse cry."

"Sure you didn't hallucinate?" Foreman cracked, heartily amused. Of course Chase would make a debacle of something like that. Foreman had stopped trying to analyse House's behaviour a long time ago. "I thought he was doing something funny with the coffee the other day."

Chase glared at him, removing his bag and dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. He clearly didn't appreciate being mocked. "Very funny. You'll see. Just wait til he comes in here."

As he spoke, the adjoining door opened and House limped in from his office. His gruff features twisted in their perpetual scowl at the sight of them. "Good morning, my children," he said caustically. "The Herr requires your presence in the clinic. And by Herr, I mean Cuddy, just to clear up any misconceptions."

Foreman frowned, distracted by his words. "But what about the patient?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? She discharged this morning. Apparently that Vasculitis-cum-Lupus-cum-Wegener's-granulomatosis was actually a good old-fashioned allergic reaction. Cleared up over the weekend. Did I forget to page you?"

Chase scowled, and Foreman gave him a sideways look. "Yeah, he's really with the warm and fuzzy," he muttered irritably. Inwardly, he had to admit, behaviour-wise, that was certainly a first— House failing to inform them of a patient's recovery. Particularly after he had taken such a strong interest in the case. Usually he liked to revel in self-satisfaction when he made that final diagnosis.

"We're not scheduled in the clinic," Chase protested, slumping into the chair at the other end of the table. "You are."

"But that was before you decided to _cover_ for me," House piped, crossing to the coffee and wincing at the empty pot. "A very noble gesture. And where's Cameron? How am I expected to focus on my soaps without my daily caffeine dosage?"

At that moment, the door opened again, and Cameron rushed breathlessly inside. "Sorry!" she apologised, sliding her pocketbook hastily over her head. "I had to drop Brooklyn off at day-care. The traffic was a nightmare."

House gave her an impassive glance. "And considering your definition of late is two minutes past nine, I think you can spare us the explanation."

She shot him a look, but immediately swept past him to brew the coffee, and Foreman frowned a little before folding up the paper. House stepped closer, eyeing it thoughtfully. "Ooh, sports pages. Mine."

He watched House snatch it up and disappear into his office, calling over his shoulder on the way. "Those poor Clinic patients aren't going to spontaneously cure themselves, you know."

Chase scowled, rising to his feet, and Foreman slowly followed him, watching Cameron move around the cupboards as he left the room. Something weird had shifted in their dynamic. Considering the tense silence they had worked in for the past few weeks, they were acting almost… normal.

He wondered if he should be disturbed by that. Or maybe it was just time to take Chase's theory into account.

-------------------------

The elevator doors swept open, and Cameron was about to step inside when she felt a warm hand on her elbow. She glanced around, coming face to face with Wilson, who was eyeing her with uncertainly clouding his earnest brown eyes.

"Hey."

He released her arm, but the elevator had already closed, and she turned to regard him cautiously. "Oh, hey, Wilson."

"You got a second?"

The clipboard in her hand contained results needed down in the Clinic, but something in his expression quelled that explanation, and she stepped out of the way as two nurses neared the elevator. "Uh, sure."

Wilson nodded, and guided her a few steps away, frowning at the wall beside them as he attempted to gather his thoughts. "Did something… happen after you and House left Friday night?"

Cameron swallowed, eyeing him guardedly. If House hadn't told him already… then he obviously didn't want to advertise it. She wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to make that mistake again. "Um, why do you ask?"

Wilson shifted awkwardly. "I'm just… I'm sorry if I might have caused things to get worse between you two," he explained apologetically. "I honestly had no idea he was going to show up. I didn't mention our plans with him, if you were concerned about that."

Cameron offered him a genuine, reassuring smile. She realised his questions sparked from nothing but guilt, and allowed herself to relax marginally. "I know, really. I should have expected it to happen. It was Friday night, and you guys are friends…"

"Right." He continued to look troubled, and she felt her palms sweating anxiously. "So nothing… happened, right? You didn't have another fight or anything?"

She shook her head, vaguely bemused by how far from the truth that really was. "Uh, no, no we didn't fight."

Wilson bobbed his head slowly, clearly unconvinced. She knew if he was going to push someone about what had happened, it was going to be House. She was happy with that. Despite the ease with which their friendship had grown recently, she wasn't comfortable enough with Wilson to admit that she and House were… involved. Possibly. Certainly not without House's approval. "Oh. Well good. I guess I'll ah…" He gestured down at her notes. "Leave you to it."

He turned awkwardly for the Oncology Wing, and she called him back. "Wilson?"

He paused, glancing at her questioningly. She lifted her shoulders. "Thanks for… you know. The concern. You're a good friend."

A small smile pulled at his mouth, and he nodded gently. "Just trying to look out for both of you."

"I know that. I'm sure he does, too."

He continued to smile, turning back towards his original destination. She let out a relieved sigh, striding quickly for the elevator when its doors slid open again.

She was a little startled to find House on the other side. He lifted a pointed eyebrow at her as the doors slid closed on the two of them, his only reaction to her presence. "Wilson hounding you?" he asked wryly, tapping his cane on the floor in front of him.

She blinked at him, vaguely wondering how he picked up on these things so quickly. He was a master at reading people, but she was still a little amazed by the accuracy of his statements. "How did you--?"

"Oh, he pretends to be nice behind that charming boy-wonder smile, but he's not so innocent. I have cleverly eluded him all morning, so I'm assuming he sought you out."

Cameron rolled her eyes at his explanation. His proximity made her heart rate kick up slightly, and she attempted to ignore it. "Right. You just saw us together, didn't you?"

House smirked. "My powers of deduction led me to a similar conclusion."

They stood side by side, silently watching the numbers light up above the door.

She broke the silence first. "I didn't tell him anything, if that's what you were worried about."

House sighed, features crinkling in a frown. He kept his gaze planted carefully ahead. "Clearly we're going to have another conversation about this, aren't we?"

They had returned to a semblance of their normal relationship in front of the others, but there was no denying the change in their personal dynamic. After he left Saturday morning, they had agreed to give each other some distance for the rest of the weekend. They still had yet to properly discuss their newfound relationship. But so far, she had been fairly optimistic about it.

At this comment, however, she turned to look at him rather indignantly, and House in turn rolled his eyes. "What are we, Cameron?"

She was bewildered by his abrupt change in topic, and stumbled over his question. "Well, we're um…" she frowned waveringly. "We're uh…"

He nodded in grim satisfaction at her halted sentence. "See? You can't even define us." He wrinkled his nose. "I don't know about you, but I'm not quite ready to start shouting things over rooftops when I don't even know what we're doing."

"Shouting over rooftops?" Cameron repeated with a smile.

House scowled down at her. "Being around your offspring has affected my snark. You get my point."

Cameron spared him another fleeting glance, clutching the clipboard tightly to her chest. "So you're not… backing out?"

House looked at her as the doors opened, admitting them to the ground floor. There was a slight softening in his features, and they were forced to vacate the elevator as several doctors crowded inside.

"No," he said quietly, following her towards the clinic. He glanced around as they stopped before the front desk, ensuring no one was in earshot, and stared at her intently. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

She nodded, offering him a brief, tentative smile, unused to this kinder, reassuring side of him. He turned towards Cuddy's office for what she was sure would be his daily lecture, and she wondered if he was going to be as distracted as she was.

----------------------

"You cannot coerce your employees into taking your clinic hours," Cuddy snarled flatly, placing added vehemence behind her words as she roughly shuffled some papers on her hefty desk.

House smirked down at her, reflecting on the fact that he was almost a permanent fixture in his current 'naughty boy' position. He wondered idly what the room looked from her side of the desk.

"Is that what they told you? Too damn modest for their own good, those guys. They offered out of the kindness of their hearts. It was touching, actually."

She gave him a long, weary look. "Do you even listen to some of the crap that comes out of your mouth anymore?"

House was somewhat amused by her exasperation. After his odd shift in rapport with Cameron, it was good to momentarily delve into normality. "Mostly I just let it do the talking for me," he rejoined easily. "Who snitched? I thought ditching Hudson had restored all loyalty."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I think loyalty is a stretch of the imagination. And no one told. I went looking for you and found Foreman instead."

"It is very easy to get the two of us mixed up. You know, apart from the black thing."

"You cannot pass your clinic hours onto Foreman or Chase, or Cameron," Cuddy snapped sternly. "That doesn't count, and I'll just add them back onto your total to make-up. You're only putting off the inevitable."

House pursed his lips. "And strangely, I'm okay with that."

She rose to her feet, shoving several papers in a green folder. "Foreman also tells me you neglected to inform them that your patient was discharged."

House frowned. "Well, they know _now_."

She rounded her desk and glared up at him irritably. Her height kind of hindered the impact of her threat. "You are not helping yourself here, House."

He scoffed. "What, so this goes on my 'probation' list? It must be a long one."

Cuddy straightened the papers in her hands, and did something truly extraordinary. She avoided his eyes, looking down at the floor with intense concentration. "For now… I think we can forget about your probation. At least until your next screw-up."

House eyed her incredulously. He wasn't going to let this one go easily. He felt a slow, satisfied smirk form on his features as she continued to look away from him. Probably to avoid that very expression. "Why, Dr. Cuddy, your generosity warms the cockles of my heart. Why the sudden change?"

"Your department has received less complaints since Hudson left," she conceded reluctantly. She gave him a pointed look. "And Dr. Cameron— and her daughter –seem to have improved your attitude as well."

He rolled his eyes edgily. As far as he was concerned, his relationship with both Cameron and Brooklyn was off-limits. "Gee, how do you figure?"

"The fact that you actually _treated_ a patient without any badgering from me or your team kind of gave me a clue." She eyed him with uncharacteristic gentleness, softening her tone slightly. "So I can assume that things with Dr. Cameron… they're good?"

Her subtle prompting caused him to now carefully avoid her eyes. "Fine," he responded gruffly.

Cuddy nodded in satisfaction. Oh, she was clever. She'd managed to regain her one-up on the conversation— and make him clam up— all in one move. "Good. As long as you can keep it from affecting your professional relationship, I don't really care what the hell you do."

House was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. "Gee, thanks for the approval, boss," he said caustically, covering up his discomfort. "Least I know you're not gonna fob a sexual harassment suit on me now if I decide to grab your ass."

Cuddy started for the door, shooting him a withering look. "And that statement does _not_ extend beyond Dr. Cameron, so the remaining female population of this hospital are stuck with your standard charm."

He snickered, limping past her and pausing in the doorway as she held it open for him. They were back to their normal banter. That was good. Confiding in Cuddy was certainly not on his agenda for the day. "Oh, you're always spoiling my fun."

She gave him a self-satisfied sneer in response. "I take a perverse pleasure in it."

He scoffed as she followed him into the clinic lobby. "I always knew you had a fetish for pain. Better not tell Chase. He might want to team up, BDSM style."

Cuddy gave him a backward glance. "I don't even want to ask."

"Yeah. It's probably better that way."

----------------------------------


	21. Chapter 21

**Title:** Succumb (21?)  
**Pairing:** House/Cameron**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.

**-------------------------**

"Wanna get lunch?"

Cameron glanced up as Foreman eyed her questioningly across the room. He was flipping through a medical journal and she was sorting House's mail, now that they were without a case. It was a strange sense of déjà vu, to be doing such a mindless activity after years of working under her own speciality. Despite the sparseness of their patients, there was still no denying the challenge of diagnostics compared to immunology. There was something about the mystery of their cases that made the often tedious interims easy to tolerate.

She slid her glasses over her nose, nodding slowly. "Cafeteria?"

Foreman bobbed his head mutely, closing the journal and placing it on the briefing table.

They strode down to the elevators in silence, and ran into Chase on the way. "Are you guys going to eat?"

He followed them into the Cafeteria, where they each purchased their meals. They unanimously decided to find a table outside, and took one under the shade, slightly isolated from their surrounding colleagues and patients.

Chase didn't wait to pursue the topic heavy on his mind.

"So what do you think is up with House?" he spoke up, taking a huge, loud bite out of his apple. "Treating a patient without telling us? That's pretty weird, even for him."

Cameron silently pursed her lips. It occurred to her that she had been spending a lot of time with House and Wilson lately, and less with Foreman and Chase. It was like she was suddenly on the inside of that odd inner bubble the three of them had longed to understand. Now, when they speculated on House, she had additional insight she couldn't voice, not without betraying her own relationship with him.

She could tell the three men had developed a subtle camaraderie in her absence; that Foreman and Chase had made the conscious decision to stand by House against Hudson. She uneasily wondered if she had thrown a wrench in that. She didn't want her relationship with House to disrupt their new, tenuous bond.

Foreman shrugged at Chase's question, leaning back lazily in his chair. "He's probably just screwing with us," he concluded, far less preoccupied with it than Chase. "Or he's holding back a more interesting case that he just hasn't told us about yet."

Chase scoffed. "If he had a new case, he would have thrown it at us already. He doesn't like to be bored any more than we do. I vote for the screwing with us option."

"You know when he gets caught up in something he has to finish it, no matter what," Cameron spoke up, unable to keep silent. "Maybe he just got a lead."

Foreman looked at her, perhaps for a little too long. "And he didn't want to brag about it?" he asked pointedly. "I don't think so."

Chase cocked a steady eyebrow at Cameron, and their combined appraisal of her was making her slightly uneasy. "Why? Do you know something we don't?"

Cameron frowned, backing off immediately. "No. No, I don't."

Foreman smiled slightly, hiding it poorly behind his hand as he took a bite from his sandwich. Cameron's green eyes darted in his direction, and narrowed as they landed again on Chase, who was also attempting to hide a smirk.

"What? Am I missing something here?"

"I just think it's interesting that House was in such a good mood this morning," Foreman spoke up, keeping his features carefully casual. "Especially considering how moody he was last week."

Cameron looked away, twisting her spoon cautiously in her yoghurt. "He didn't seem any different to me."

"Right," Chase said, chuckling lightly. "Sure he didn't."

Cameron frowned, studiously avoiding their glinting eyes. She knew their amusement was mostly harmless on her behalf, but she still didn't like them mocking what was still a very fragile relationship. There were enough volatile emotions in the mix without their added input.

"Hey, guys." She glanced up as Wilson appeared over Chase's shoulder, and she lifted her eyes to his, not entirely sure if she should be grateful for his entrance.

As far as she knew, he was still oblivious to what had really happened after House took her home Friday night. He wouldn't interrogate her in front of Foreman or Chase, but he would certainly be looking for clues, and she hated having to gauge her contribution to the conversation.

He took the seat beside Foreman, placing his lunch tray carefully on the table. "I heard you solved your case."

His conversational tone relaxed her slightly, and Foreman nodded in greeting. "House solved it," he corrected.

Chase sighed deeply, still somewhat sore. "Yeah. Apparently we're just wall fixtures now."

"Oh nonsense," House's dry voice sounded behind him. Apparently he hadn't been very far behind Wilson after all, and Cameron had the sneaking position Foreman had been well aware of that when he had baited the intensivist. "You're not pretty enough for my walls. You just think you are."

Cameron's eyes lifted to his briefly, and she felt a warm rush travel through her stomach as he stared back at her, before she looked down at her food again. She alternatively loved and hated that one man could have such an adverse effect on her emotions. She felt a minor thrill in knowing that their relationship had shifted so drastically, and the world went on oblivious around them.

Chase rolled his eyes, unaware of their exchange, and House slid onto the remaining chair, on Cameron's right. He hooked his cane on the steel arm, lifting his eyebrows around at them all pointedly. "Oh, don't get all shy and stop talking about me now. I'm sure you were just getting to the good part."

It occurred to her how strange it would have been several years ago, for House and Wilson to approach them without a case to confer. She had effectively bridged the gap between the two groups. She wasn't sure how she felt about giving herself that kind of credit.

"You know, some people would consider it weird, you working on weekends," Wilson noted dryly, alleviating some of the tension.

House gave him a serene smirk. "Must be those meds they have me on. Make me do all kinds of crazy stuff." He jabbed his fork pointedly at Foreman. "And I thought we agreed there would be no more dobbing on the boss to The Boss."

Foreman scoffed. "Hey, I think Cuddy noticed you weren't in the clinic all on her own."

House sneered. "Yeah, sure she did."

"Well if you didn't solve the case, you wouldn't have to _do_ clinic duty," Foreman reminded him tartly.

House lifted an eyebrow. "Boy, you must be in the wrong profession. I thought we were supposed to _heal_ the sick. Or maybe that's just my Florence Nightingale complex coming out."

A dangerous glint shone in Foreman's eyes. Cameron sensed him rising to the challenge, defensiveness aligning with the protective concerns weighing on his mind. She instinctively tensed in her chair. "Or _maybe,_ it has something to do with whatever happened between you and Cameron Friday night."

Cameron choked on her milk, and House glanced at her briefly. Wilson's brow rose, and Chase's eyes darted uneasily between the two men, sensing the coming conflict.

Cameron leant back in her chair; drawing in a steadying breath once her coughing had ceased. House frowned sternly at Foreman, the only indication of his discomfort with the newfound scrutiny on his personal life. "See? Are you trying to kill people?"

Foreman looked entirely too satisfied in the face of House's wrath. "Differential diagnosis," he rejoined easily. "Good mood, treating patients, _seeing_ patients..."

"Call me crazy, but it sounds like he's morphed into a _doctor_," Wilson spoke up sarcastically. His eyes were slightly more nervous, concealing an undercurrent of understanding, and she realised he knew where this was headed.

Foreman lifted an eyebrow, eyeing House dangerously. "I'll believe that when I see it."

House rolled his eyes, but there was warning glinting under the derision. "Oh goody, is this the part where you cow me with the full strength of your big brotherly swagger?"

Foreman narrowed his eyes. There was no ignoring the fact that their usual tension seemed to have kicked up several notches. "So are you admitting that something is going on?"

House stared back at him darkly. "I can give you the details in all their graphic glory, if you'd prefer. Cameron probably wouldn't."

Cameron shifted upright, suddenly annoyed. House was using his typical line of sarcastic defence, but she didn't work that way. She didn't exactly appreciate being made into an exhibition. "Okay, shut up, both of you."

"I'm going to have to second that," Wilson added, frowning.

Foreman scowled, albeit a little uncomfortably, when he read her infuriated expression. House also looked annoyed, glaring at Foreman darkly, refusing to back down from his position.

Cameron's pager interrupted the terse silence. She was so worked up, she barely reacted to it until House turned and gave her a slight frown.

She unhooked it from her belt, studying the display fleetingly. "Cuddy wants me in the clinic," she announced, more than grateful for the excuse to leave. She rose to her feet, frowning at them in disgust before she snatched up her tray, and stalked off.

--------------------------------

Cameron consulted her clipboard, jotting down a few loopy notes as the patient rattled off her miniscule, flu-like symptoms. Unlike House, she had learnt to tolerate clinic duty as a necessary requirement of her job.

A walk-in clinic automatically meant that the majority of patients either had small, minor ailments or hypochondria, but there were occasions when a genuinely ill person came into an exam room. Those were the moments that reminded her of the true use of her position. It was a humbling obligation she had missed at New England.

Clinic duty also happened to be a very calming process, and an opportunity for her to work through the motions without thinking too deeply. Today, it had the added bonus of providing her with a welcome escape from the stifling silence of the Diagnostic department. There was only so much mail she could do.

She offered the patient a small, kindly smile, instructing her to buy some over-the-counter flu medication from her pharmacy. She scrawled a few, customary notes on the bottom of the clipboard, barely glancing up when the door opened again.

"So I'm getting distinct sulk vibes here," a familiar, low voice spoke up calmly. "Chivalry probably requires me to flee, but I have this problem with the whole fleeing thing."

Cameron pursed her lips, stubbornly refusing to lift her eyes. "It doesn't sound very manly, either," she noted.

"That is also very true. We couldn't have that marring my record."

She sighed, slowly, reluctantly, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Why are you here?"

House tapped his cane idly on the floor, looking unaffected despite the fact that they appeared to have been publicly 'outed'. She knew, of the two of them, he was the most sensitive on that front. "You're mad," he observed nonchalantly.

Her face twisted in a tired frown, and she shook her head slowly, unable to understand his abrupt turnaround in attitude. "I'm not… mad. You just… you didn't have to provoke him."

"He started it."

She rolled her eyes at his juvenile line of defence, leaning against the examination bench and folding the clipboard under her arm. "I didn't tell him, if that's what you're wondering."

He lifted an eyebrow at her tone. She looked slightly uneasy, and he traced her soft features with his eyes. "I know that," he said at last. Only with Cameron could he come in with the intent to semi-apologise, and have to soothe _her_ guilty conscience. "He was reaching. He's just pissy because I solved the case without him." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I should remember this for future annoyance."

Cameron frowned, momentarily distracted. "Why _did_ you solve the case without calling us?"

House shrugged, looking at the anatomy poster over her shoulder. "I had a theory. I didn't need any help. You know, you finally take some initiative with the doctor stuff and the underlings don't like it. Interesting. Maybe I'm not the only one with the alleged 'God Complex.'"

Cameron rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's the reason."

Nevertheless, she let it go, which he appreciated. She paused awkwardly. "So, they know something happened. Are you… okay with that?"

House didn't know whether to be insulted by how wary she was of his opinion. On the other hand, he hadn't given her many reasons to trust him personally, so he couldn't fault her for it. "And here comes The Talk."

She sighed at his evasion. "House."

He scowled. "Look, they were going to work it out sooner or later. They saved us the trouble of a very awkward announcement. I say that's a good thing."

"And?"

He frowned. "And I'm hungry. Someone didn't let me finish my lunch."

"What do we do now?"

He heaved a deep sigh. She was going to make him say it. "Well, I suppose the next logical conclusion would be dating."

She tilted an eyebrow, barely hiding her smile. He decided that if he could make her eyes light up like that, it wasn't really a bad thing. "You're actually suggesting we date? I'm… shocked."

He rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, laugh it up. You won't be so excited when you figure out my idea of a date is stale Chinese food and General Hospital. And maybe a bottle of Jack D thrown in for good measure."

Cameron smirked slightly. He was amazed at her ability to forgive him. "Trust me, I could have figured that out."

She stared at him for a moment, and he shifted, uncomfortable with her scrutiny. "Of course the offer might expire if you make me spend any longer in here," he spoke up gruffly. "Cuddy might smell me."

She took his broad hand, twining through her much smaller fingers. He frowned slightly in surprise, studying their tangled hands, the difference in their texture. Hers were soft and delicate, his lengthy and strong. Both doctors' hands; symbols of their mismatched, yet oddly compatible traits. He rubbed the back of her palm a moment, enjoying her silky flesh, the fact that he could touch it freely, before letting go. She was unravelling him. If he lost himself in her here, there would be no turning back.

"Face it," he said, clearing his throat, renewing some of the distance between them. "You can't keep a secret in this place for longer than twenty-four hours. Embrace the gossip."

Cameron gave a short laugh, green eyes glittering faintly, like she understood what he was thinking. She let him step back without comment. "Trust me. Brooklyn already took care of that."

He turned towards the door, the trace of a smile pulling at his mouth. He glanced back at her as his fingers closed around the knob, and she offered him another small smile, returning her attention to her work. He shook his head, striding out into the clinic before Cuddy decided to come out of hiding. He had already fulfilled his hours that morning, but he wasn't about to tempt fate.

He thought he'd already done enough of that today.

--------------------


	22. Chapter 22

**Title:** Succumb (22?)**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Author's note:** Should be wrapping this up pretty soon. Only several more chapters to go. I really appreciate all of the lovely reviews, and that you've stuck with me for so long.

--------

"Well. I can't believe I thought the two of you had had a _fight_."

Wilson had apparently decided he'd given House enough space to resume his relentless teasing. House shot him a faint, dirty look as he rounded a corner for his office, forcing an indifferent, caustic tone to colour his voice. "You know fighting is just cover for foreplay, right?"

Wilson chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to follow House through the glass door. "And clearly you're uncomfortable about it enough to joke. That means you're serious. Good."

House twisted his features, circling his desk and uncovering his bottle of Vicodin under a few medical papers. Wilson didn't sound as surprised as he had expected him to, and he wondered if he had had any suspicions. Cameron wasn't exactly pro at evasion. "What makes you Cameron's dating authority?"

Wilson shrugged, unbothered by his palpable display of annoyance. "Hey, face it, man, you're going to have half of the hospital monitoring this relationship. They've only been waiting five _years_ for it to happen."

House dry swallowed a pill, eyeing his friend irritably. His colleagues' collective enthusiasm regarding his love life – or, more accurately, his love life where Cameron was concerned -- was part of the reason he had wanted to keep things quiet in the first place. "Gee, you think they need blow-by-blow diagrams on the office noticeboard to keep them in the loop? You can draw, right?"

Wilson sagged into his regular chair opposite House's, propping his feet up on the desk. "Will you relax? Foreman and Chase aren't going to say anything to anyone. They're protective, not insensitive."

House lifted an intolerant eyebrow, batting Wilson's feet down again. This thing, whatever it was with Cameron, was too tentative to start picking it apart. He wished Wilson would give it a rest. "I'm starting to think I need a new friend. A battery operated one with pre-programmed topics. Like General Hospital reruns."

He knew, this was how they worked. He didn't discuss Wilson's personal life unless it was a useful distraction tactic, and Wilson prompted him about his because there was rarely anything to actually talk about. He just wasn't in the mood for it this time.

Wilson didn't catch the hint. His eyes glittered enthusiastically, surveying House with far too much interest. "So when I called you Saturday morning— you were at _Cameron's_?"

House huffed, evading the question. "Your interest in this is a little disturbing."

"I'm married," Wilson shot back. "I live vicariously through others."

House offered him a look that clearly said he did not believe him in the slightest. "Right."

Wilson scoffed. "Hey, you don't want to talk about this, fine. Just as long as you know what you're doing this time. You and Cameron aren't the only ones involved anymore."

Like he wasn't already aware of that. "Thank God Mother Wilson was here to protect children's rights," House snarked, inexplicably annoyed by the reminder. "You don't even like kids."

Wilson frowned, brushing something off the leg of his pants. He looked mildly offended. "That's not true. I like kids, I just don't want kids. Not right now, anyway. There's a big difference."

House scoffed slightly. "Uh-huh."

Wilson shrugged idly, picking up House grey and red ball. "Hey, at this stage, you're a lot closer to fatherhood than I am."

House expression immediately shuttered. A comment like that was Wilson's typical way of gleaning information. It wasn't going to work. "I am not Brooklyn's father."

Wilson lifted a stray eyebrow, sensing his discomfort and pushing it further. "No. But you could be. The thought has occurred to you, right? Getting into a relationship with a single mother kind of comes with the territory."

House sensed he was being tested, and slumped down on his chair, swinging his cane out at his side. "Thank you for the reminder," he said curtly, eyes tracing its rapid movements. "But I had noticed."

Wilson took on a thoughtful expression, and it occurred to House that his loyalty was divided this time. He and Cameron were friends, and he was looking out for her best interests just as he was looking out for House. "You're actually serious about this, aren't you?"

House's blue eyes darted over in his friend's direction, but Wilson was too insightful to miss the flash of unease in his steely gaze. He smiled slightly to himself, looking out over his shoulder, to the faint cloudy skyline. "Good to know."

-------------

They ended up at the park.

It was near Cameron's apartment block, and she explained to him that she had started taking Brooklyn there regularly after day-care.

It was nearing the end of fall and the leaves were starting to crumple and brown on the earth. Brooklyn was wrapped up in a bundle of layers, confirming House's suspicions that Cameron was an overprotective parent. She looked like a stiff moving, tiny pink mushroom, waddling along the path in front of them, kicking at stray leaves and bending to inspect something she found particularly enthralling once in a while.

Foreman and Chase were, predictably, awkward around him since their minor confrontation at lunch the day before. For once, he praised Cuddy and the clinic for getting them off his back. He wasn't one to get involved in petty office squabbles. Well, certainly not when they were about him, anyway.

His moods were up and down, and tiptoeing around sensitive colleagues wasn't exactly his style. He had reassured Cameron that he wasn't worried what other people thought, and he had meant it, but it didn't mean things weren't grating a little thin. Cameron didn't seem excessively worried about it, and he figured what he said in the clinic the day before must have comforted her. She dragged him along on her little outing, sensing the reason behind his current changing moods, and he put up the expected fuss, but eventually agreed.

He wasn't loathing it as much as he thought he would. The clean air was good for his pain, and the exercise was something he was in sore need of, these last few years. And it was interesting, to see mother and daughter outside the hospital, doing something so normal.

The sky was still overcast, casting a dull gloom over their surroundings. His cane tapped against the sidewalk, offering a soothing, monotonous rhythm that interrupted the comfortable silence they appeared to be immersed in. There weren't many people he could enjoy silence with. He generally felt the need to keep the conversation going, through witty banter, or, as was more likely, caustic insults, effectively eliminating the chances of contemplation.

Cameron was also clad in several warm layers, with a cream scarf wound around her neck and a grey jacket. She seemed to take a childlike fasciation in the cold, and had a faint smile curling around her lips when she gazed up at the sky.

It was still too early for snow, but he could tell that was what she was thinking about.

"It's not going to snow yet."

Cameron blinked, turning her head to look at him, offering him a small, genuine grin. "What makes you think I thought it was?"

He rolled his eyes. "You've got a dazzle in your eye. I'm assuming snow has some kind of romantic connotation in your mind. Never mind the freezing your ass off factor."

Cameron laughed. The light sound was almost musical, and something he rarely heard. "And of course you can find every reason to be negative about the idea."

"Naturally."

He eyed Brooklyn as they neared a playground, whose face seemed to light up at the sight. Cameron started to move in front of him in that direction, and he frowned slightly, following after her. There were a few other kids swinging on the jungle Jim, and chasing each other under the gaudy yellows slide, but only one or two were as young as Brooklyn was.

Cameron stopped in front of a bench directly overlooking the sandbox, sitting down and gesturing Brooklyn in front of her. She straightened her jacket, fastening it until it was buttoned all the way to her chin, smiling down at her gently. They shared such a natural affection, and for a moment, House just observed them thoughtfully.

"You can play for a little while, okay, sweetie?"

Brooklyn bobbed her head, climbing over the wood dividers with tentative steps and plonking happily in the white sand.

House continued to frown, lifting his cane and lowering himself on the bench beside Cameron. "Isn't she a little young to be in there by herself?"

Cameron gave him a look. She seemed slightly amused by his tone, cupping her gloved hands under her arms. "Backseat parenting, House?" she teased. "She's fine. She only plays in the sandbox."

He shook his head slightly, absently fingering the handle of his cane. "Right."

He shifted his cane in one hand, reaching into his jacket with the other, and retrieving his bottle of Vicodin. Cameron eyed him thoughtfully as he dry swallowed one pull, and he gave her a look. "What?"

"I haven't seen you taking as much as you used to. It seems like you're cutting down."

House scowled. He was inwardly surprised she had noticed. "Does this come with the whole dating thing? Monitoring my drug intake?"

Cameron was silent, glancing over at Brooklyn again, who was clumsily patting a ball of sand together in her tiny hands. He sighed deeply. "I cut down to 60mg about a year after you left," he admitted, in a much quieter voice. "They were starting to have some nasty side effects."

Cameron looked concerned, but wisely didn't voice it. "That's probably good, though, right?"

"If you mean am I less dependent on them, the answer is no. It hasn't changed anything."

She looked doubtful, but shrugged. They rarely spoke about his leg, certainly not when she had been working for him before. After she heard the story behind his infarction, it became a sensitive topic. He wasn't any more comfortable talking about it now.

Cameron seemed to sense this, and quietly let it go. She knew that getting him to open up to her involved baby steps, and she was content with what she had managed to accomplish thus far. She wasn't interested in pushing him. It had been her biggest failing last time. And she had her own sensitive discussion points.

House decided to change topics before he made her uncomfortable. He didn't want to alienate her, not after things had just started to fall into place between them.

"You know, it occurs to me that calling me House might be messing with Brooklyn's concepts a little."

Cameron recognised what he was doing, and couldn't help a small smile. She shifted in place, leaning back so her heels were dragging over the ground. "Really? What would you prefer she call you?" She smirked as she thought about the prospects. "Uncle Greg? Greg? Because she's not so good with her 'r' sounds, so it might sound more like 'Gweg'."

House tried, and failed, to hide a smirk at her attempt to mimic her daughter. "_You_ don't even call me Greg. That'll just give her a whole Oedipal complex, and then you've really messed her up for life."

He paused, as if considering what he had implied with that statement. After Wilson's earlier interrogation, he felt slightly awkward about the exact role he was expected to play in Cameron's life. He wasn't stupid. He knew what he was getting himself into when he suggested they date. It was just different, hearing the words uttered so nakedly.

Father.

Cameron didn't seem to catch onto it, or if she did, she chose to overlook it. "You don't call me Allison, either."

Her first name on her lips sounded odd to him, and he wasn't sure why. He had never called her that before. They had slept together, and he hadn't even called her by her first name.

"Maybe I'm just waiting for an opportune moment," he remarked nonchalantly.

Cameron lifted an eyebrow at that cryptic remark. "What counts as a opportune moment, exactly?"

"That would be telling, wouldn't it?"

She chuckled, before looking down. Her expression suddenly took on a more sombre quality. "You know, I ran into Chase on my way to the parking lot this afternoon."

House rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption to their light banter. "Oh joy. Did he throw the office rulebook at you? Threaten to call a priest?"

Cameron frowned. "No. He seemed okay with it. He knows it isn't going to change anything in the office."

"That's right," he jeered. "He'll always be the reigning whipping boy."

She shook her head, but she looked mildly amused. "I haven't really spoken to Foreman, though."

"He'll get over it. We've just upped the political incorrectness of the team. That's usually his job."

She ignored the racism behind his remark. She knew it was basically harmless. Or she hoped it was. "Maybe you should. Talk to him."

House rolled his eyes at her determination to play peacemaker. Or nudge him into the role. "Yeah, but personally, I prefer it when our office tension roils under the surface with tight smiles and lots and lots of silence."

Cameron rubbed her hands together, sliding off one of her gloves. "I just don't want things to get awkward again. Not after we just got everything back to normal."

House stifled a sigh, gazing out over the playground. "You worry way too much about everyone else."

She bristled, mildly defensive. Still so determined to defy him. "Is there something so wrong with that?"

"When it interferes with me? Yes."

She scoffed. He had noticed, in their years working together, that her eyes changed in shade depending on the colours around her. It was an intriguing quality. Today, with the grey of her jacket and the dull gloom of the afternoon, they were a bright, emerald green, piercing into him defiantly.

It still amazed him, how easily they could shift, from friendly banter to irritation. Their emotions were always so intense, swirling unpredictably, threatening to tip in either direction.

He reached forward, sliding his thumb slowly over the curve of her cheek, surprising her. She blinked, and he swiped a curl of hair out of her face, tucking it slowly behind her ear. It was a foolproof way to shock her into silence. "You're much cuter when you're pissed off."

Cameron struggled, ineffectively, to maintain her glare. "Does that mean you do it on purpose?"

He met her gaze, holding it smugly. "I always did it on purpose."

He bent forward, brushing his lips briefly against her cheek, chafing her soft skin with his stubble. He lingered there, inhaling her sweet vanilla fragrance, enjoying the way she drew in a shaky breath. Just as she shifted to kiss him, he drew back, giving her a mock frown.

"Tsk tsk, there are kids watching us, Cameron. What would the other moms say?"

Cameron narrowed her eyes at him, hitting him on the arm, connecting with his cold leather jacket. He continued to smirk, enjoying their unexpected ease. "Uh-uh, you're giving schoolyard bullies all over some pivotal pointers."

"Shut up."

"They're gonna snatch that comeback right up, too."

Cameron jumped to her feet, giving him another dirty look. Amusement glittered behind her eyes. "I'm going to go get Brooklyn now."

"Better clean up that attitude before you do. Wouldn't want her to start following Mommy's bad example."

She rolled her eyes, stepping over the wood divider, approaching Brooklyn, still playing intently by herself in the sand. He smirked, leaning back on the bench, shifting his cane absently from hand to hand.

Glancing up at the sky, he noted it was looking suspiciously like snow. For once, he decided he didn't mind.

------------------


	23. Chapter 23

**Title:** Succumb (23/25)**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**Rating:** PG-13

-------------------

The pen scrawled rapidly over paper, producing an illegible signature. He barely checked what he was signing, doing it all on autopilot, flipping through the pile of forms Cuddy had insisted he take care of. His cane was hooked on the counter of the nurse's station, clinging to the edge of the plastic wood, and he favoured his good leg, ignoring the dull pain in the other.

He felt a presence behind him before he turned his head. He moved his eyes, catching Foreman's unreadable expression as the neurologist leant casually against the counter beside him. House resisted a deep sigh, attempting to ignore his presence, which was virtually impossible. Looked like Cameron was going to get her 'talk' after all.

He was silent and waited for Foreman to speak first.

He didn't disappoint.

"So. You and Cameron."

The corner of House's mouth twitched in a sign of his physical pain. He turned his attention back to his task, keeping his gaze fixed down. "Me and Cameron," he echoed flatly. As if that alone would warn Foreman off the subject.

Of course, he hadn't hired Foreman for his cowardice.

The other doctor pursed his lips, and House wondered if this was going to be another poor attempt to impart some kind of awe-inspiring advice. Foreman's views on the situation were continually conflictive, and House didn't have the time to wait for him to make up his mind.

He'd done that already.

"Look, I want you to know that… I think it could be a good thing."

House lifted his head, signing his signature without looking. He was probably missing the dotted line altogether. "Oh, really?" he replied sarcastically. "Thank God for that. We weren't actually asking."

Foreman heaved a deep sigh, determined to persevere despite House's roadblocks. House was amazed at the lengths he would go to for Cameron's sake. He could almost admire him for it.

"I was out of line the other day and I'm sorry. If you two want to… do whatever it is you're doing, it's none of my business, and I'm not going to say anything else about it."

House lifted an eyebrow, inwardly taken aback by Foreman's honesty. Outwardly, he remained unimpressed. "Glad to have that cleared up," he said sarcastically.

He turned back to his work, hoping that would be the end of it. Foreman wasn't moving.

"I just hope you know what's at stake here."

House's fingers pinched around his pen, and he turned to face Foreman fully. Of _course_ he wasn't done. "Oh please, enlighten me," he piped.

"Cameron has a kid and you… aren't exactly the picture of warm and fuzzy."

House opened his mouth in mock horror. "Gee, you think that'll be a problem?" He sneered, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Don't worry, I have a plan. When she hits five, we ship her off to some European boarding school and she can visit in the school holidays, because I'm such a champ that way. Now Mommy might take the separation badly at first, but I'll make her forget all about it, if you know what I mean."

Foreman gave him a dark scowl, folding his arms steadily. He had that same vaguely smug look he had when House had taken Cameron on that disastrous date so long ago now, like he was expecting the situation to implode and there was nothing he could do but wait for it to happen. "What, so you think you can just play Daddy to Cameron's little girl?"

The strength of his doubt was reminding House of his own distant insecurities, and he struggled to ignore them. "I don't see anyone else clamouring the fill that role," he grunted sourly.

Foreman shook his head, huffing disbelievingly. "I'll believe that when I see it."

House opened his mouth to retort, and glimpsed a shadow in the corner of his eye. Cameron appeared from seemingly nowhere, purposefully striding up to them, turning so that she was standing at the counter beside House. Her warmth brushed his side, assuaging some of his mounting tension.

He wasn't sure how much of their conversation she had overheard, but judging by the irritated, defensive look on her face, he would wager that it had been more than half. Foreman looked distinctly uncomfortable, shifting in place, frowning slightly when his eyes trailed between them. Cameron directed an icy glare in his direction.

"Are you questioning my ability to raise my own child?" she asked tightly. "Because I think if anyone is going to be making that decision, it's me, not you,"

Foreman exhaled deeply, wavering over her intense stare. House resisted an unwilling, satisfied smirk. She had _definitely_ honed her intimidation tactics. "Cameron, I didn't mean to—"

She shook her head. Her patience was wearing thin. "I understand what you're trying to do. Now stop it."

He nodded, slowly, unfolding his arms. "Yeah. Okay. I'm… sorry."

House did smirk this time, and Cameron pointedly nudged him with her arm. He gave her a look before glancing back at Foreman. No way in hell would he give him the satisfaction of accepting his apology the way Cameron wanted him to.

"Well then, I'm sure you can spare us all the discomfort of the standard, 'You hurt her, and I kill you' speech," he said, annoyed by the odd awkwardness of the conversation.

Foreman rolled his eyes, vaguely shaking his head. He looked somewhat surprised by their display of gentle ease. "I think we've made that more than clear."

"Glad to hear it," House said flatly.

Foreman sighed, nodding, and some implicit peace seemed to be restored between them. He gave Cameron a careful pat on the arm, turning back for the Diagnostics Department like he couldn't leave fast enough.

House frowned, and a long silence fell between them. They weren't quite at that stage where they could brush something like this off. Not without analysing the hidden significance.

He spared Cameron a brief glance, awkwardly fingering the edge of his papers. "So. How much will it take for us to never bring this conversation up again?"

Cameron smiled faintly. He suspected she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Don't worry. I have a feeling Foreman's already trying to forget it."

"Good to know. I might have had to fire him."

It was strange, how easily they seemed to have fallen into this pattern of comfortable banter. After their prior discussions, they had stopped consciously referring to their relationship. They were striving to merely accept it for what it was, which suited House just fine. He didn't need to apply labels to it. Labelling things made them permanent and irreversible, and they were far too volatile for that.

He knew everyone else was wondering what the hell it was they were doing, but he didn't really give a damn. It had nothing to do with them.

He turned back to his work, tossing the signed papers aside in a messy pile. Let one of the nurses sort through it. Cameron mutely leant against the counter beside him, vaguely watching his progress. He was so accustomed to her scent now he barely even noticed.

"I was wondering if it was okay if I left early tomorrow."

He glanced at her. For some reason, it wasn't that difficult to separate their professional relationship from their personal one. Maybe it was because he no longer thought of her as his subordinate. If what they had had before was a mentor/student relationship- that had disappeared the day she left the hospital.

"Sure. Any particular reason?"

She shrugged offhandedly. "I have to take Brooklyn in for a check-up."

He frowned slightly, straightening a little. "If I recall, we actually _do_ that here."

She gave him a patient look. "Yes, and I also happen to work with the doctors here on a pretty regular basis."

He shook his head. He definitely understood that logic. "Ah. That."

"Yes. That." She moved away from the counter, white coat flapping behind her. "Thanks."

He shrugged. He still wasn't comfortable with overt expressions of gratitude, even from her. He barely turned around when he spoke next. "You should come over for dinner tonight."

He heard Cameron's feet pause on the polished floor. He could feel her eyes scrutinising him uncertainly. He did things with her and Brooklyn, sure, but he had never invited her into his private domain. He was uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was part of her life, not the other way around.

"Are you… sure?"

He hated the hesitation in her voice. She was still uncertain about this after all. She could defend their relationship to others, but she was harbouring doubts. Great.

He made himself shift, turning his head to look at her. He met her eyes for a brief moment. "Bring Brooklyn. Obviously."

She nodded hesitantly. "Okay. I will."

He nodded perfunctorily, eager for the moment to end. "Good."

She paused a second longer. "Yeah, good," she repeated.

He rolled his eyes at her. "You don't have to have that deer in the headlights look. It's no big deal. Wilson will tell you that."

That earned him a smile. She shook her head, backing up slowly. "Bye, House."

He watched her slender form for a moment as she disappeared in the direction of the Diagnostics Department, probably not far on the heels of Foreman. He decided they really needed to find a new case. Lurking around corridors instead of facing his team was starting to lose its appeal

---------------------

Like the man himself, House's building hadn't changed. Not to the casual observer.

It was in a quieter section of town than hers. The rush of distant traffic met her ears, and the area around her was illuminated faintly by dim, surrounding streetlamps. Cameron lingered outside on the sidewalk for a moment with Brooklyn's hand in hers, gauging the situation.

She could feign confidence when House was involved in portions of her life, but it was a different thing entirely to be invited into his. She shook her head, sighing into the darkness, glimpsing the rush of icy breath as it clouded the air in front of her.

She had been there once before, and it looked exactly the same as she remembered. She wondered if the inside would be the same as well. She knew House didn't like change. He didn't enjoy the readjustment. It made her appreciate the effort he was going to with their new, tenuous relationship even more.

She lifted Brooklyn up in her arms, feeling her soft hair caress her cheek as she strode forward. She halted in front of the door, pausing only another fraction of a second, before lifting her gloved hand and knocking swiftly.

House didn't take long to answer, and she offered him a small, tentative smile. "Hey."

"Hey," he responded gruffly. His eyes scanned Brooklyn, and she saw a flash of faint affection before he gestured them inside.

It was such an innocent way to approach their relationship. Before, when she had envisioned things, they had gone nothing like this. She had always expected something far messier; dark and intense. It was almost like they were forced to slow down with Brooklyn between them, and she was more than happy for her daughter to help them set that pace.

"I thought you said you lived on take-out?" Cameron asked, lifting an amused eyebrow as House strode back towards the small kitchen. She placed Brooklyn carefully on the floor, keeping one eye on her as she started a curious exploration of the room. She was usually shy in foreign surroundings, but she seemed to sense that she was safe there, and she picked up on the relaxed tone in her mother's voice.

The apartment _was_ more or less how she remembered it. Tan coloured walls, dark wood furniture, shelves of assorted books haphazardly arranged. It was so strange to be there again, after so many years, and so many changes. She felt a faint burst of sadness that it had taken them so long to get things right.

The room was cast in a gentle, dim light. She tugged off her jacket, placing it on the arm of House's sofa, noting his mild clutter. She could see his organisational tendencies was pretty much the same as they were at work.

He shot her a backwards look from inside the kitchen, inflecting a certain amount of petulance in his tone. She knew he didn't mean it. "Just so we're clear, this is a once off thing."

She rolled her eyes. Whatever he was cooking smelt… really good, actually. She suspected he was concealing a hidden talent.

He glanced at her again as she watched Brooklyn from across the room.

"You can turn on the TV for Brooklyn, if you want. I'm sure there's some kiddie friendly program on the Hallmark channel."

Cameron grinned before she could stop herself. "You have the Hallmark channel?"

House scowled. "Wilson seems to enjoy it a little too much for someone with his low moral standards."

She shook her head, deciding she would rather not question that further, and crossed the room to turn on the TV before lifting Brooklyn gently on the sofa. She grinned happily, and Cameron loosened her tiny coat, ensuring that she was perfectly content to stay in that position.

The scent of whatever House was cooking had followed her into the living room, and it drew her back into the kitchen, tantalising her senses. She stepped inside, silently leaning against the plain white counter as House continued his work.

It was a rare pleasure, to be able to watch him do something so menial without worrying about the consequences. He seemed oblivious to her scrutiny, that, or he was just ignoring her, and she admired his strong, bare arms as he sliced the vegetables and slid them into a bubbling pot.

She braced her hands against the edge of the counter, tapping her fingers vaguely and allowing her eyes to wander over the television. His cane was hooked on the handle of one of the cabinets, and she unconsciously lifted it, sliding the smooth wood through her fingers.

"You know, that's like un-holstering a man's gun. You just don't do it. Not without expecting serious consequences."

She smirked faintly, swinging his cane back and forth. "Like what?"

He narrowed his eyes. "It wouldn't be sporting if I told you about it."

She continued to grin, enjoying his feigned annoyance. She wandered over to his refrigerator; still holding onto his cane. Her curiosity was awakened when she spotted a photograph hastily tacked there. She turned back to House, and realised he was watching her. She forged ahead anyway. "That's your Mom, right?"

His blue eyes pierced her for a moment longer, before they returned to the stove. "Yeah. You did meet her once."

It was strange, that she had, when she thought about it. "Wilson put it there," he added, in case she had any doubts about his sentimentality.

She nodded. "It was a long time ago, now."

"Yeah. My Dad died about a year after you left."

She blinked, surprised. She couldn't keep the sympathy from her features. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. He looked uncomfortable. They had shifted from banter to seriousness in less than a second. She hated that they still did that. "It's fine."

She suspected that it was far from fine, but she let it go. Despite their strained relationship, she knew House had valued his father's opinion probably more than he wanted to. It was human nature, to want a parent's validation.

"Did I ever tell you why I'm an atheist?"

He frowned. He looked caught between confusion and surprise that she had steered from the topic so easily. They still had to bridge the gap between their new and old selves occasionally. It was so easy to forget that the last three years had ever happened.

"My family was religious. Not overly religious, but we used to go to church every Sunday, and my father was pretty strict about that." She unconsciously tapped her fingers on the handle of his cane. "He was very wary about science. When I told him I wanted to be a doctor, he didn't want to know anything about it. I think that's why he liked Blake… my husband… so much. He thought I would give it up once I was married." Her brow creased slightly. "I haven't really spoken to him much since Blake died."

House lifted an eyebrow slightly. It wasn't something she would have told him before. Contrary to popular belief, she wasn't very forthcoming about her past most of the time.

"Guess we have some Daddy issues in common then," he said, at last.

Cameron smiled faintly. "I guess we do."

She shifted forward, replacing his cane carefully on the cupboard handle near his side. She brushed his frame just slightly, and she peered down at the frothing pot, forcing lightness to return to her tone. "So. What are you making, anyway?"

------------------


	24. Chapter 24

**Title:** Succumb (24/25)**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**Rating:** PG-13

---------

It wasn't often House felt comfortable disclosing details about his personal life.

He wasn't even sure why he had told Cameron about his father. After she told him about Brooklyn's father, it just felt natural to return the favour. Of course, now she had revealed to him another detail about her mysterious history, and he probably owed her for that one, too.

Brooklyn was just as unfussy with her dinner as she was with everything else. If it was anyone else's child, House would have had them examined, but with Cameron as her mother, it was only too fitting.

She did, however, have an unduly fascination with his piano seat. He knew if she had the opportunity she would start banging around on his baby grand itself—what toddler could resist that?

Cameron was typically apologetic and tried to distract her, but at last House gave up watching her futile struggle, and crossed to his piano. He slumped down on the low bench, swivelling so he was facing the sofa, propping his cane up against the piano. Brooklyn titled her head up to him, grinning widely, tugging on his pants. Most children seemed to shy away from him after a while, and tended to find his presence intimidating- but Brooklyn never quite caught that hint. Now that he didn't actually mind, she was only more relentless in seeking his attention. Mother and daughter shared a certain resemblance there.

"Up," she chirped in her high-pitched, cherub-like voice; like he hadn't already figured as much.

Cameron eyed him nervously. "House, she'll break something," she warned.

He sighed, and lifted her up, careful to rest most of her weight on his good thigh. Secretly, he just liked favouring her. "Unless she has the strength of an elephant, I doubt it."

He felt Cameron's eyes on him as he demonstrated for Brooklyn, by pressing down on one of the ivory keys. She immediately lifted a tentative finger, hitting one of the lower notes. The deep sound that filled the room was hardly melodious.

Cameron shook her head, but he could see a subtle smirk touch her lips in the corner of his eye. Brooklyn grew more confident, and started to hit a few more random notes, giggling lightly at the sound.

House held out his hands to prevent her from damaging anything. "Uh-uh. No killing the piano. It was way too pricey to deserve it."

Cameron relaxed back in the armchair she was currently occupying, content to watch their interaction, remaining silent in her observation. She finally spoke up. "Play something."

He glanced at her, lifting a silent eyebrow over Brooklyn's head. Playing his piano was generally a solitary activity, and one he didn't like to do around others. But Cameron's request was basically harmless, and it wasn't as if he would ever back down from a challenge, anyway. He pursed his lips; shifting forward again, maneuvered his arms carefully around Brooklyn's tiny frame. He stretched his long fingers deftly over the keys, and began to play Chopin.

Brooklyn was completely still, engrossed by his fingers' swift movements. He could feel Cameron's eyes on his back, displaying similar interest. When he finished, the jazzy music peppered out, and he glanced back at the immunologist, who was still silent.

She was grinning at him.

"Impressed?" he prompted, attempting to hide his discomfort.

She laughed. "Considering the only thing I can play is 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'? Very."

Brooklyn started to tap the keys again, in an attempt to imitate him, and House grimaced. "Clearly someone is going to have to teach her how to do that properly. The manufacturer is probably spinning in his grave."

Cameron shifted further back in her seat, crossing her legs comfortably. Her earlier anxiety appeared to have dissipated. He wasn't as uncomfortable as he had expected to be a few weeks ago, seeing her fit so effortlessly into his home. Seeing her and her _daughter_ fit so effortlessly into his home.

"Maybe you should take it up?" she suggested simply.

It was yet another reminder that he might become a permanent fixture in Brooklyn's life.

He nodded silently, because he didn't know what else to say. When Brooklyn started tapping keys again, it felt natural to reach around and help her. So long as no one outside this room saw him acting this nicely, he figured that was okay.

-------------------

He was starting to get paranoid.

The last time things in his personal life had been going so well; he ended up in the hospital missing half of his thigh muscle.

He wandered into his office, thankful that his team were elsewhere for the moment. Cuddy had finally referred him to a new case, and though he had put up the usual fuss, he was secretly glad to have the distraction. Foreman and Chase were off doing an MRI, and Cameron was speaking to the patient's family and collecting a history.

He entered his office, switching on the portable TV on the way, determined to settle in for an episode of General Hospital and give his mind the chance to mull over their current symptoms.

Five minutes after the first commercial break, a shrill sound erupted from the adjacent room. A heavy scowl crinkled his features, and he ignored it, waiting for it to stop.

Whoever it was must have been determined, because five minutes later the same sound interrupted his meditation. House grunted under his breath, using his cane to lever himself to his feet. He strode through the glass door into the next room, and took a moment to locate the source of the disturbance.

The cell phone on Cameron's desk was vibrating. He frowned, noticing that her pager was also beside it. And people thought _he_ was disorganised. He paused, then shrugged and flipped it carelessly to his ear. He probably would have done so even if they weren't dating.

"What?"

The voice on the other end of the line sounded suitably dismayed by his blunt greeting. "Uh, hello… I'm looking for Dr. Cameron?"

"She's indisposed," he grunted, intent on getting rid of her as soon as possible. Probably one of those stupid telemarketers.

"Oh. Well… I'm, uh, calling from the day-care centre. It's about her daughter."

House frowned, tensing unconsciously. "What about her daughter?"

"She was hurt. It's nothing serious, just a scraped knee. We're just having a little trouble calming her down, and I thought her mother might be able to help."

He knew Cameron had put Brooklyn in the PPTH day-care centre for the morning, so she could take her to her afternoon appointment with minimal trouble. His frown deepened. She didn't have her pager on her, and he was in no mood to traipse around the hospital looking for her. It would just be easier if…

"I could come up and… take care of her," he suggested reluctantly. He had been trusted with Brooklyn many times before, sure, but this was completely different. He felt distinctly uncomfortable about making the call without Cameron's approval.

The woman hesitated. "I don't know…"

He sighed impatiently. "You really think I just decided the randomly answer her phone? I'm her boss. She isn't here."

She was silent for a little while longer, and he thought he heard her shuffling some papers. When she spoke again, she seemed strangely satisfied with that arrangement.

"All right. I'm sure that will be fine. You know where we are?"

He rolled his eyes. He had only worked in the hospital for twelve years. Granted, he didn't have much to do with that department, but still. "I think I could find it," he said sarcastically.

"Okay then. I'll see you soon."

He flipped Cameron's phone closed, sighed deeply. His concern for Brooklyn overrode his irritation with the situation.

The elevator was empty, and he watched the numbers above the door light up as they neared the sixth floor. He strode down the hall as they slid open, thankful that he was unfamiliar with most of the staff on that floor. He wasn't ashamed – it wasn't as if he gave a damn what people thought of him – he just didn't need tongues wagging any more than they already were.

He swung through the glass door into the colourful day-care centre, wincing at the sound of raucous laughter and the loud, intermingling voices of lots and lots of children. Brooklyn, he could handle. That didn't mean he was any fonder of her snivelling little playmates.

He walked over to the reception desk, where a middle aged blonde woman was standing, looking harried. She glanced up as he neared. "Dr. House?"

He didn't remember giving her his name, but he assumed his reputation preceded him. "That'd be right. Where's Brooklyn?"

She looked slightly doubtful, but to her credit, she hid it well. He had always had the impression that people who were used to dealing with children all day were inept at adult communication. He decided then and there he would reassess that opinion.

She gestured him through the toddler height gate cordoning off the main play area from the reception, and he followed her, ignoring the cheery, bright flowers and fuzzy animals decorating the walls around him.

Brooklyn was sitting on a small plastic chair with a bandaid on her knee. It looked like nothing more than a small scrape, and her knee was still red from where she had skidded on the carpet. Another, younger woman was with her, making nonsensical soothing noises. She glanced up as House neared, and a worried look momentarily crossed her face. He wagered half the doctors and nurses who left their children there were just as judgemental and paranoid about their kids' injuries as normal parents were.

Brooklyn's face was covered in tears and her shoulders were shuddering as she sobbed. The young woman stood up as House neared, and her expression was similarly doubtful, but she didn't bother hiding it.

House ignored her, placing his cane on the empty table, concealing a wince as he crouched down in front of Brooklyn, and put his weight on his good leg.

"Hey, now, what's all this?" he murmured, mindful of the two women hovering behind him.

Brooklyn's head lifted, and her dark brown eyes blinked up at him. She slowly stopped crying.

He nodded. "That's better. You're okay now, aren't you?"

She shifted forward, jumping off her chair, immediately clinging to him, huddling against his much bigger frame.

He shifted, slightly uncomfortable with this open display of affection, automatically wrapping an arm around her and feeling her soft hair tickle his chin. An odd feeling surged through him. He glanced back at the two women, who looked pleasantly surprised. It wasn't too often he garnered _that_ look.

He nodded curtly at them; a dismissive gesture they couldn't misinterpret. The younger one frowned, but the older one gave him a faint smile. Both of them wandered back over to the reception desk.

Brooklyn remained in the crook of his arm for a while, but he gently drew back, quietly dumbfounded by her attachment to him. "Do you want your Mommy?" he asked carefully.

She mutely shook her head, still staring at him with her wide brown eyes. He sighed, reaching out and gently wiping the tears from her face with his sleeve. He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do in this situation.

Brooklyn seemed perfectly happy with the attention he was giving her, and offered him a tentative smile. "Bodie." She pointed at a blonde boy across the play area, who was racing around the room like he had ADD.

House rolled his eyes at the overactive kid. "Looks like someone gave their little ray of sunshine too much sugar this morning," he observed critically. He glanced down at Brooklyn. God, Cameron was going to have trouble with this girl. She was already showing the signs of being a stunner, just like her mother.

He figured out what she was trying to tell him. "Did he push you?"

She nodded emphatically. He glanced back at the two day-care workers, who were busily chatting at the front desk. He narrowed his eyes. A familiar voice momentarily distracted him from telling them a thing or two about doing their jobs.

"House?"

Oh. Crap.

He winced, straightening slowly, keeping his back to her until he was on his feet. He left his cane on the table. Brooklyn blinked curiously, sensing his sudden irritation.

"Dr. Cuddy," he acknowledged sardonically, concealing a grimace.

The hospital administrator stood opposite him with a folder in one hand, clad in one of her more revealing black power suits. She barely tried to hold back her grin, taking in the sight before her. "Well. Can't say I ever imagined I'd find you on _this_ floor."

He glared, just daring her to continue. "My adventurous side deemed otherwise. So, what's your excuse? Finally feeling that biological clock tick away, or did you just get hungry?"

Her lips quirked mischievously, and she folded her arms, tapping the clipboard against her side. She was enjoying this far too much. "Budgeting."

"Uh-_huh_. Don't we have people who do that sort of thing?"

"Well, obviously it was very lucky I decided to come up here myself."

House scowled, before giving her a pointed, appraising look. "Tell me, isn't that outfit a little _frightening_ for the children? Might be a little early for _that_ kind of education."

She rolled her eyes, but she ignored his sexually charged comment, as she had a tendency to do. Her light blue eyes trailed down over Brooklyn, and she surveyed her with noticeable curiosity. "So this is Cameron's daughter. She's beautiful."

She bent down in a crouch, offering the timid toddler a kindly smile. "Hi, sweetie. I'm Lisa." House watched, faintly bemused at the behaviour little kids seemed to rouse in adults. Brooklyn shifted slightly, hiding behind House's leg.

Cuddy smiled at her reassuringly. Her scrutiny was even more annoying than Foreman and Chase's. Probably because she knew him so well. "Don't be shy, it's okay."

"Must be your funbags," House declared, eyeing her from above with a hint of unease. There was no way she wasn't going to hold this over his head. It was too perfect. "She thinks they're coming to get her. Which is an understandable fear, really."

Cuddy straightened again, steadily meeting his gaze. She could obviously sense his discomfort, and seemed to take a grim sort of satisfaction from it. "Tell Cameron she's very lucky," she said, and her tone was sincere. She stared at him pointedly. "Maybe remember that yourself, too."

He pursed his lips, saying nothing as she turned and sauntered back over to the front desk. He stayed with Brooklyn a little longer, but she seemed perfectly happy to play on her own, and as he glanced at his watch, he realised it was nearing lunch hour. Cameron would probably be coming to collect her soon.

He retrieved his cane and started to the exit, pushing the encounter with Cuddy to the back of his mind. On his way, he came across the older of the two women, who smiled at him a little too pleasantly. "She seems really taken with you, hmm?"

He frowned, eager to avoid meaningless, awkward chitchat with this stranger. "Sure," he said briskly, eyeing the exit.

"It's so nice to see. I mean, half of the fathers we have in here don't have that kind of bond with their own kids, you know?"

He frowned impatiently, fixing her with his cold stare. "Yeah. Listen. You might want to spend less time making with the chitchat, and more time watching the little munchkins. You know. Avoiding lawsuits and all that. The boss doesn't really like them."

Her lips tightened noticeably. She looked annoyed. "I can assure you we keep a close eye on all of the children here, Dr. House."

"No kidding. Wonder how it is that Brooklyn got shoved over by that little blonde brat over there then?" He frowned, as another thought struck him. "And you just let anyone come up here? What makes you think I'm not going to heave off with one of the tykes just because I said I'm Cameron's boss?"

She scowled. "If you must _know_, Dr. Cameron listed you as an emergency contact."

He blinked, momentarily unable to conceal his surprise. The woman took this as an excuse to escape his recriminations. If she'd just seen him talking to the boss, he was sure she was fully aware of the pull he had in the hospital. "If you'll excuse me..."

She manoeuvred around him, disappearing rapidly towards the play area. He ignored her brisk tone and fearful exit, frowning slightly to himself.

He was again taken back by the effortless display of Cameron's trust. There was no way to ignore the implications of her decision.

He just didn't quite know what to do with it.

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	25. Chapter 25

**Title:** Succumb (25/25)**  
Summary: **We have to succumb to the feelings we can never face.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the reviews, guys. I really really adore them. So this is it, for now. I may or may not attempt a sequel at some point, but don't hold me to that. I hope you enjoy the ending.

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It was only really the third time House had actually spent the night, and it already felt like a habit.

Cameron was awake, lying on her side, surveying House's sleeping form in the dull moonlight. They were too tired to do anything but sleep, and the deep lines that defined his face had lessened slightly, making him look younger and more vulnerable.

She smirked faintly when she considered what he would say if he knew she was watching him. He'd been acting sort of strange since that afternoon, and she wondered if it was because she had left early, forcing the three guys to deal with their new patient alone. He understood her obligation to Brooklyn, so she couldn't imagine why that would piss him off.

And it wasn't as if he was acting in a way that suggested he was angry. He had stayed, after all. There was just something… off, about him. Getting him to admit to it, on the other hand, was virtually impossible.

She sighed, rolling on her back, staring at the shadows as they made familiar shapes on her ceiling. When she was a little girl, the shapes would have frightened her, but now she found their measured movements comforting. She was almost lulled to sleep again when a small, plaintive cry echoed down the hall.

She shifted upright, frowning as she heard the sound again. Brooklyn.

She slid soundlessly from the bed, striding barefoot across the carpet and down the narrow hall. Brooklyn's bedroom was only two doors down; close enough so that Cameron could hear her if she was needed.

She was hunched in her bed, covers tucked up to her chin, staring wide-eyed at the door. Cameron gave her a reassuring smile as she stepped through the threshold, walking over to the side of the bed.

"Did you have a nightmare, sweetheart?"

She sat on the edge of the mattress, and Brooklyn immediately snuggled against her, murmuring something sleepy and nonsensical. Cameron smiled down at her, brushing the hair tenderly out of her eyes.

It occurred to her that if she hadn't left Princeton, the circumstances the led to Brooklyn's birth never would have taken place. Brooklyn had somehow managed to become the catalyst for all of the good things in her life. Her independence, her self-worth… House.

"Go back to sleep," Cameron soothed, softly stroking her forehead. She watched silently as Brooklyn closed her eyes, drawn gradually back into slumber.

She would never regret leaving, because of that. Never.

She sighed, watching her for a little while longer before carefully rising to her feet. A tiny blue nightlight near the floor cast the room in a calming glow, and she found her way easily to the door.

She knew getting back to sleep now was going to be impossible, but for some reason she didn't really mind. For the first time, she could step back and really evaluate where she was… and she realised she was happy. Maybe for the first time ever. She was still imbued with her normal doubts and fears, but the emotional angst she was so accustomed to was noticeably absent.

Maybe because she finally had everything she wanted.

She tucked her long hair behind her ears, nudging the door to her room slowly open. Her eyes lifted when she realised there was no reason to be quiet.

House was awake; head propped up under one arm. He was watching her silently.

"What's up?"

She swallowed, gazing at him in the darkness. It was so difficult not to linger in the past sometimes, not when she was surrounded by it. She took a moment, responding in a soft voice. "Brooklyn had a nightmare. I was just helping her go back to sleep."

He nodded, still quietly observing her. The shadows concealed his face, making his expression difficult to make out. She reached the end of the bed, crawling on her hands and knees until she reached her pillow.

She glanced down at him uncertainly. "What?"

House shrugged, looking at the door, where she had left it craned open a fraction. "You… listed me as an emergency contact."

She frowned, confused at first, until she realised what he was talking about. Okay. So that was what had him acting so strangely.

She was caught off-guard, and answered cautiously. "Uh, yeah."

"Why?"

She opened her mouth blankly. "You seemed like a logical choice. You're my boss, and Brooklyn knows you."

"That's the only reason?"

Cameron remained sitting. She eyed him dubiously. She couldn't quite decipher his tone. "And because we're… involved."

He nodded silently. His eyes were still roaming the room, tracking random shapes in the dark. She didn't understand his preoccupation. "House… if you don't want to be… I understand. She's not your responsibility—"

"What am I to Brooklyn?"

That stopped her. His low, gruff tone often indicated some deeper, hidden emotion, and she wondered if that was the case this time. His eyes tracked over her face now, and she could feel their weight. She swallowed, folding one leg under her. "I… I don't know," she answered hesitantly.

She'd never actually thought it was something he would want to consciously discuss. And certainly not this early. House frowned. "A lot of people seem to think I'm yenning for the role of surrogate Daddy."

She cleared her throat, and her brows creased together. "Well I… I don't expect you to be. You can be whatever you want."

House scowled impatiently. He sat upright, wincing only a little from the pain in his leg. They were at eye level now, and his scrutiny was surprisingly intense. "Cut the crap, Cameron. What do you _want_ me to be?"

She was starting to get annoyed. "Why do you need a definition?"

"Well, if I'm getting confused, I can only imagine what she must be thinking," he said sarcastically.

Cameron narrowed her eyes, and scrambled back off the bed, establishing some distance between them. "You mean what everyone _else_ is thinking, right? You're so worried this will sully your reputation as the hospital jerk?"

House gave her a look that could only be described as exasperated. "I don't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks. You of all people know that."

"Then why are we talking about this?" she snapped.

He sighed. "You really think I'm equipped to be anyone's _father_? The hospital jerk with a heart? Come _on_. It doesn't work that way. _I _don't work that way."

She blinked at him. She could tell this had been bubbling for a while now, but she couldn't believe she was hearing it. "I told you, I don't expect you to be Brooklyn's father!" she said loudly.

He scoffed scornfully. "Now why don't I believe you?"

She huffed disbelievingly, shaking her head. Slowly she turned and stalked down the hall. She couldn't deal with this right now.

Of course, House wasn't done. When she reached the kitchen, she heard his distinctive three-legged walk behind her, and he drew to an abrupt halt at her back.

"So I guess the running thing still works for you."

Cameron whirled around, so her back was pressed against the cabinets. In the silvery moonlight, his features were pale and intense. His loose track pants skimmed the floor around his bare feet, and his Rolling Stones t-shirt left his muscular arms exposed, also illuminated in the muted light. She couldn't believe they were having this argument, in the middle of her cramped kitchen, at three o'clock in the morning.

"Do you really think I would expect you to do something like that, after everything that's _happened_ between us?" she hissed. "I never wanted you to be something that you're not. I never expected you to do anything you didn't want to. That's just what you thought. Remember?"

"Uh-_huh_. So according to that logic, you have no expectations about this relationship?"

Her face twisted angrily. He was using her words against her. Like usual. "That isn't what I said!"

"Sounds suspiciously like it to me."

She groaned. Her heart was starting to increase in tempo, and her stomach was twisting under his sudden, unexpected machination. "_God_," she exclaimed angrily. "You are so frustrating! I don't understand what you want from me."

House lifted a steady eyebrow. "What do _you_ want? That's all I want to know."

She frowned. She let her arms fall against the counter, gaze wavering over his. He had to do this. They were content, and he had to disrupt it. "Obviously it doesn't matter what I want," she said quietly. "You've already made up your mind."

He pursed his lips, and she shook her head. "You would be nothing like your own father, House," she said evenly, reading shrewdly into his doubts. She wasn't stupid. He liked to think he was unreadable and unpredictable, but he wasn't. Not to her.

She allowed the conviction to seep into her voice, and fixed her gaze silently on his as she spoke. "_I_ know that. I don't have trouble believing that. I don't know what you want to hear, but if you want the truth— you're the only person I've been able to trust with Brooklyn since I've had her."

Wordlessly, she strode past him, brushing his side on the way. The fact that he had so little faith in her hurt. A lot. She moved back down the hall towards her bedroom, because she was tired of appeasing his wounded ego.

She didn't expect him to follow.

--------------------

House clenched his jaw, closing his eyes and leaning against the counter she had vacated moments ago. He could practically hear Wilson's voice in his ear, scolding him on how he had just handled that situation.

This was how he handled Cameron's show of trust. By picking a fight.

He didn't know why he had pushed her. It was far too early in their relationship to really consider his role in Brooklyn's life, but if he was honest with himself, it was because he was already fully invested in this… _thing_ with Cameron. He had worked it up in his mind for so long, it felt natural to expect her to be on the same page.

He sighed deeply, feeling exhaustion seep through his body. He had hurt her. That look in her eye had been unmistakable. He knew she was still trying to tread carefully and consider his feelings and insecurities, which was such a typical Cameron thing to do. Consequently, it made him feel like twice as much of a bastard.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, hesitating only a second.

Then he started down the hall, keeping his footsteps light so he didn't wake Brooklyn.

Cameron wasn't in her bed. Light from the bathroom spilled over the rumpled covers, and he frowned, closing the door silently behind him, striding towards the small adjoining room.

She had her back to him, with her slim arms resting against the sink. The water was running and she was staring down at it, watching it dully as it was swallowed up in the drain.

He surveyed her from the door, blinking against the brightness of the light. His feet connected with the cold tiles and she glanced up, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

She was so perfect and understanding, and he had thrown it in her face.

Quietly, he stepped up behind her, so his front was brushing her back. She kept her eyes down, shutting off the water. He slowly lowered his head over her shoulder, grazing her smooth skin lightly with his chin.

She swallowed, saying nothing, staring at their reflection. He allowed his blue eyes to connect with her green ones in the mirror, conveying what he couldn't say in words. He turned his head and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against her cheek. She closed her eyes, and he felt her shudder against him. He lifted his free hand and stroked his fingers softly against her side, attempting to soothe away all of the pain he had caused her with his touch.

Cameron slowly wilted against him, leaning her cheek against his. He could feel his stubble bruise her soft skin, and he kissed her again. "I'm sorry," he sighed. He was. Apologies weren't generally his thing, but he figured if anyone had deserved one over the years, it was her.

Cameron sighed, keeping her eyes firmly closed. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I know."

Just like that, she forgave him. She always did.

"You still trust me," he remarked wearily.

She opened her eyes to glance at him again, nodding slowly. For someone who didn't believe in God, she sure had a lot of faith. "Yeah. I do."

"I think your judgement skills are debatable, just so you know."

She rolled her eyes, but she didn't look offended. She slowly swivelled around, until she was pressed between him and the sink. She kept her gaze focused on the front of his shirt, slowly tracing the band insignia with her thumb. "Believe what you want."

House lifted his hand, steadily tilting her chin upwards with his warm, calloused fingers. He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly, with more conviction than he could remember.

Cameron responded to him immediately, opening her mouth under his ministrations, allowing his tongue to slowly, carefully trace hers. She clutched the front of his shirt, unconsciously hugging him tighter. He caressed the side of her cheek, letting his hand slide down to her upper arm, supporting her against him.

When she broke away for breath, he nodded his head back into the bedroom. "Come on."

She released his shirt, following him voluntarily, and he switched the light off in her wake. She moved over to the bed, scooting over the edge of the mattress, and he deposited his cane carelessly nearby, climbing carefully over her, avoiding contact with his bad leg.

He gazed down at her for a long moment, letting the strength of his gaze sear into her eyes. He traced the line of her shirt with his palm, smiling faintly as she curved against his touch, and he lowered his mouth to hers again, instantly savouring her taste.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had to agree with Cuddy, for once in his life. He _was_ lucky. Because the only person who could screw this up was most definitely him.

--------------------------

Cameron rolled onto her side as she slowly opened her eyes, wincing as she rubbed away the last vestiges of sleep.

She glanced at the space beside her, which was dishevelled but empty, carrying House's familiar, unique scent. She allowed a soft, minute smile to touch her lips as she recalled his behaviour the night before. Even if he never told her, she could never doubt the way he felt about her. He had always managed to convey so much more through his actions.

She took her robe from the armchair in the corner, combing the hair out of her eyes. She assumed his need for Vicodin was the reason he was up before her. She padded out into the hall, again becoming accustomed to lively cartoon music filling her modest living room. Apparently House and Brooklyn had developed their own morning ritual.

She knew his feelings of insecurity and inadequacy were the real reasons he had pursued the subject so intently last night, even if she hadn't been able to acknowledge it at the time. The fact that he had made the first move and apologised imbued her with a strong sense of reassurance.

She was greeted with something a little unfamiliar as she entered the room. The unmistakable scent of pancakes assailed her nostrils, and she tilted an eyebrow, taking note of House positioned idly behind the kitchen counter, obviously having no qualms about raiding her cupboards.

Brooklyn was perched on the carpet in front of the TV, and Cameron gave her a fleeting look before striding over to House.

"I thought you said the cooking was a once off thing?"

He glanced at her as she neared, shrugging nonchalantly. He looked too domestic, in his rumpled t-shirt and slightly askew hair. She concealed a warm grin.

"That was before Brooklyn gave me the puppy-dog eyes of doom," he replied tartly. "She could teach me a thing or two in my dealings with Cuddy. You have her trained well."

She smirked. "Well, yeah, obviously this was part of my master plan."

"Obviously. Domesticate the male in some twisted, futile attempt at role reversal."

Cameron rolled her eyes, but when she stood beside him he casually held out his free hand, and tugged on her robe, pulling her directly in front of him. It was his silent way of assuring her that things were okay between them. He kept his palm resting against her hip as he flipped the pancakes with the other.

"Also, your kitchen needs a serious upgrade," he grunted, gesturing pointedly with the spatula. "It's begging for it. I'll almost beg on its behalf."

She remained pressed against him, ignoring his gruff tone and focusing on the rare intimate gesture, allowing her gaze to wander over Brooklyn on the floor. Her young daughter looked typically enthralled with the television, oblivious to the two adults, and the pivotal role she had played in their new relationship.

When Cameron noticed that House was making quirky shapes out of the pancake batter, she didn't bother hiding her smile.

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**FIN**


End file.
